The Dragonborn Empress
by lotrgirl2000
Summary: They say that all the Septims were Dragonborn. That didn't end with the Oblivion Crisis. Major AU
1. Chapter 1

There's a strange fact about the Amulet of Kings that people don't really know about. It's very similar to a daedric artifact, or Daedra in general, in that it can't actually be destroyed in the mortal plane. So when Martin Septim released the power of the amulet to become the avatar of the god Akatosh (which killed him), he didn't actually destroy it like everyone thought he had. He had merely sent it back to a plane of Oblivion (Sovngarde to be exact) to, in a matter of speaking, recharge and to wait for the next mortal to make a covenant with. It would wait another two hundred years (although time has no meaning to metaphysical artifacts, especially those created by the god of time).

In those two hundred years, many things happened and quite a bit changed. A political cold war ensued - between Aurelia Corvii, who was the closest thing Martin had to a widow and was carrying what would turn out to be Martin's child. She also happened to be a Septim herself through her father. Her adversary was the head of the Elder Council, Ocato. The Elder Council was the only one who could declare the next emperor in times like this. However, Ocato hated Aurelia and Aurelia hated Ocato. Ocato, and therefore, the Elder Council, would never accept Aurelia. Aurelia and her supporters, the old guards of the Septim Emperors, the Blades, and most of the people, would accept no one else. This ten period is known as the Years of Cold Blood, the blood part was because all of the very distant cousins of the Septims were killed, until there were only two. The first was the aforementioned Aurelia and the second was her son, who was ever so subtly named Martin. (How could anyone guess who his father was?) By the end of this period he was ten. The cold was part was for the hostility between the two main factions in Cyrodiil vying for the throne. However, the pattern of those years, which had been quite a bit of hostility but no actual violence, changed when Ocato was assassinated by the Thalmor, who had begun to regain power in their homeland, the Summerset Isles.

The rest Elder Council didn't feel like looking as if they had been controlled by Ocato for the past ten years and thus took the step he never had. They proclaimed a man named Thules (who would be known as Thules the Gibbering, and a man the people would come to hate) the emperor, proclaimed Aurelia's son's claim to the throne illegitimate because he was a bastard (which hadn't bothered anyone else in the past, as quite a few of the Septim emperors had been bastards or the child of a bastard), and declared Aurelia an enemy of the state. This was, in effect, a declaration of war. Both forces began to mobilize. It looked like the realm would be put in even more turmoil, but something unexpected happened. Aurelia was assassinated. Or her son was a target of assassination, and she sacrificed herself to save him, no one really knew. Martin ran into hiding, taking the key to his incredible inheritance with him. It has been the goal of many thieves and adventurers to find this key, but none have succeeded.

As soon as Aurelia had died, things went from bad to worse. Aurelia had almost all of the people on her side and she had a very strong claim. She was the descended from the younger of the two daughters of Tiber Septim, who also became the god Talos when he died. She was also the mother of the last Septim emperor's only child, who was too young to press his own claim. Lots of people would flock to her banner because of this. When she was killed, there were huge amounts of confusion.

Her cousin, Titus Mede, attempted to restore order. He said that it was the Elder Council who had Aurelia killed and it that was time to take action. However, this is contested. There were many of people who could have been the mastermind of the attack: the Thalmor, Thules acting of his accord, and, funnily enough, Titus Mede. Titus Mede was actually suggested as the killer from the beginning, surprisingly enough not by the Elder Council or the Emperor. Quite a few people from Aurelia's side, one being Jauffre, the Grandmaster of the Blades, pointed out how if he had really cared about Aurelia he would have followed her last wishes. He would have put her son on the throne and he would be, if anything, the regent. Titus Mede would respond to this accusation that no one knew where Martin had gone. His accusers noted that Mede didn't exactly look very hard for the boy. Future historians would point out how Aurelia had completely passed over Mede in her will, favoring his younger brother, Claudius, who was known for being kind, but not the brightest. In fact, she left him all of Kvatch and stated her wish for him to inherit Bruma, if her son couldn't do these things. There was also the fact that in a letter to Jauffre, she had mentioned the fact that she did not trust her elder cousin. While both her cousins were older than her, most take this to mean Titus.

So when Titus Mede declared his intentions, there were mixed feelings. Her group split. This might have made the Elder Council feel victorious, but that feeling didn't last long. Because in that same year, year 11 of 4E, Thules was overthrown.

Six long years of pretenders and confusion hit the Imperial City, until Titus Mede and his one thousand men conquered the city. Mede declared himself Emperor, thus ending the Stormcrown Interregnum, which had started with the almost civil war or Aurelia's assassination, depending on your point of view. However, even though there was stability on paper, the Empire was weakened. Titus Mede's claim was shaky and the people realized this. Some of them began to grumble about putting Aurelia's son on the throne, and a few brave (and slightly crazy) people even started to call him Martin II.

The grumbling only got worse when the Summerset Isles seceded from the Empire. When Mede seemed incapable of stopping this, the people were angry. They started feeling a bit more nostalgic. The elder Martin wouldn't have just made a good emperor had he been given the chance, he would have been the greatest since Tiber Septim himself and if he hadn't died then none of this would have happened. Aurelia Corvii had not just been a beautiful woman, she had been the most powerful woman in the world and if she had been empress, none of the Empire's weakening would have happened. Her son Martin, even if they didn't really know what he was like, was a political and military genius and if he had been emperor, none of this would have happened. In Kvatch, Aurelia's birthday became a festival and the day of her death was to be mourned each year. While the people in Kvatch were all for this, it didn't hurt that that Claudius had adored his cousin. In the Imperial City, people began leaving things on and around the statue of Aurelia and of Martin. These were things like flowers and letters that said things like, "we miss you!" or, "we're waiting, don't worry!" Needless to say, the Emperor wasn't pleased about this, but there wasn't much he could do.

But while there was grumbling, full on revolt didn't happen. These Septim revivalists had no leader and were mostly united regionally instead of nationally. They were all looking for a Septim to lead them, but none came. Every scrap of information they had about Martin was from whispering in the dark corners of taverns or rumors discussed late at night.

So, what was the practically legendary Martin doing? Becoming the greatest swordsman of his time in an effort to avenge his mother. He seemed to know who the murderer was, but he never told anyone. He would marry a Redguard woman named Lairya, the only one who ever matched him in fight. He seemed to live the rest of his life in peaceful obscurity. He had only had one child, a son, which would become a trend in the family. There would be no daughters and if there was more than one son, only one of them would have children.

The years passed. The Empire continued to weaken. Valenwood and then Elsweyr seceded and soon became part of the Aldmeri Dominion under the control of the Thalmor. Soon Black Marsh seceded as well, though it did not become a part of the Dominion. In 166, Morrowind seceded because of the Empire's inability or lack of care to help them in the subsequent years after Red Mountain had erupted, destroying many of its cities, covering most of the land in ash, and crippling its economy. Two years later the Emperor died and his son became Titus Mede II. Just two years into the new emperor's reign, the Thalmor demanded that the worship of Talos be banned, the Blades disbanded, and to turn over most of southern Hammerfell. The emperor refused, and thus the Great War started.

In the year 174, the Thalmor got where no one, including (at least in the beginning) themselves, thought they could. They sacked the Imperial City, set fire to the Imperial Palace, as well as the White-Gold Tower which they also pillaged for anything of value, and committed unspeakable atrocities on the locals. The Emperor was able to return with reinforcements, but the damage had been done. In 175, the White-Gold Concordant was signed, giving in to the original Thalmor demands. Hammerfell refused to accept this and continued to fight the Thalmor alone into a stalemate for the five years. Hammerfell would have an enduring grudge against the Empire for abandoning them to their fate.

However, there is an incident in the war that was unrecorded. Just before the beginning of violence, a Blades agent named Delphine was recalled to Cyrodiil on a top secret mission. The Blades were looking for the Septims and it was her job to find them. And she did. Two months before the White-Gold Concordant was signed, a man named Adaric was pulled from the army. He was the last of the line.

But the Blades weren't the only ones looking for the last of the Septims. The Thalmor were also looking for him. For even though the Elves live the longest of any race, their leader still feared death. He asked all of the Daedra how he would die, but the only one to answer was Clavicus Vile. Clavicus told him that the he would be killed by a woman of Septim blood. So, the obvious solution to the King was to kill however many people were left and that would solve the problem.  
>Luckily for Adaric, however, the Blades found him first and after the disastrous ending of the war, he and Delphine escaped together by going through Hammerfell. For ten years they roamed through Hammerfell and Skyrim as nomads. It was in Hammerfell that the most important moment of Adaric's life occurred, for Akatosh had found the time was right to return the amulet to the last of the Septims. He gave the Amulet of Kings to Adaric and told him that when the emperor died, one of his blood would have to relight the Dragonfires or the Daedra would consume the world.<p>

Time passed. Delphine and Adaric grew closer and, five years after the war's  
>end, they married. Five years after that, the child they never thought they would have, was born. A girl, whom they named Merina.<p>

_"Not much is known about the Empress Kintrya III, or as she was known then, Merina. What knowledge we have is few and far between. We do know that she was born in the Jerall Mountains near Skyrim on the 30th of Frostfall, year 180 of the fourth era. Her parents: a Blades agent named Delphine and a man named Adaric. Until Merina, which is what we shall call her for this period of her life, he was the last Septim. No records of her before age ten were made, or if they were, they did not survive. We cannot trust the future Empress' accounts that she wrote in her memoirs, as they are likely to be heavily biased and politically influenced. But what little we do know can tell us many things about the woman and her motives."_  
><em>~ The Life of the Empress Kintrya III, volume one, by. Chaeis Belarnian.<em>

Later, she wouldn't remember much about that day. She would not remember  
>why he was leaving, where he was going, where they really were in the Jeralls (there were a lot of trees so she was probably toward the bottom of one side but that wasn't very helpful), or even if it was Sun's Dusk or Evening Star. But she would remember the snow. It was the purest of white, almost unnaturally so. After that day, she never really saw it the same way.<p>

The memory started at home. She remembered her mother's hair, the same shade of blonde as her own, and craning her neck to see her father's face. In all honesty, she couldn't remember much of his face. Every time she realized that she could recall less and less of his face she would feel a horrible twist in her stomach. How could she be forgetting her own father's face? She had been ten years old at the time, hardly too young. But then she would think about his smile. His smile had lit up his face, making the wrinkles and hardships melt away. He had been smiling when he had said he was leaving. Mother had given him some supplies. Then he'd

walked off, his boots crunching in the snow.

He must have forgotten something, because Mother said to go after him with a grin as if they were sharing some private joke. She had said to stay close, but Merina had run ahead. Back then she had always loved running. She went faster and faster, almost flying across the snow, pushing tree limbs away from her face as she sped on ahead.

But she skidded to a stop, hair flying in her face from the sudden lack of motion, blue-gray eyes went wide as soon as she saw the scene in front of her. This was the part she hadn't forgotten, the part that refused to be forgotten as if cut into her with a jagged blade.

As soon as she saw them, she knew who the elves, two men and and a woman, were. They were Thalmor Justicars, with the cucumber green skin and golden armor to prove it. Her mother had told her what to do if she ever saw them: run and find her or Father. But her mother was nowhere to be seen and going to Father obviously wasn't an option. So she hid. She was behind two evergreens, staring at the scene. The Thalmor didn't seem to notice her- all their

attention was on her father.

The woman, who seemed to be their leader, spoke first. Merina couldn't remember what she had said, but she remembered her voice. It was harsh, cold, and clear, even against the raging wind.

With that she pulled out her sword, the others followed her lead. And at that moment, even if she didn't want to believe it, she knew it was all over. Her father managed to evade the first few blows, but he had only a small dagger and the clothes on his back to protect him. He looked over at her, as if somehow knowing she was there, trying to express everything in a final glance. That horrifying moment seemed to defy the laws of time for Merina, slowing down and repeating. The moment where she saw the elven woman's blade go through her father's spine, golden metal tainted by burgundy red. The snow looked like someone had torn up the petals of a rose.

She almost screamed, but just as she was about to, her mother's gloved hand quickly covered her mouth. Merina hadn't realized that she had caught up. "Merina, if you scream, they will kill us. There's nothing we can do for your father now. We have to leave."

They ran back to the deserted house. As soon as she got there, Merina started  
>to cry. She tried to stay quiet.<p>

'Warriors don't cry,' she thought as she wiped the tears off her face, 'Septims  
>don't cry.'<p>

They grabbed what they could- money, food, water, and the amulet. The amulet she was apparently supposed to use to light the Dragon Fires and stop the Daedra from invading. How she was ever supposed to be able to do that, she had no idea. At that point, she was honestly afraid of it. But the amulet had also been given to Father. She grabbed it and held it so close to her chest it moved with her breathing, before stuffing it in the front pocket of her apron. Once they were outside, back in the snow and the biting cold, her mother was next to her, a lit torch in her hand.

"We're going to have to burn it." She heard Mother reluctantly say. "I know." Merina didn't recognize her own voice when she said that. It sounded cold and uncaring. She pushed the thought away. Now wasn't the time to be emotional, the Thalmor could find them at any moment, and she needed be rational. She need to be like Mother.

"I want to do it," she said. Her mother looked rather shocked when she said that, but nodded, handed her the torch, and went to get the horse.

Merina took one long, last look at the house, with its straw thatch roof and almost white wooden walls. The house where she had been borm, said her first word, taken her first step, and spent her entire life. She took one last look at the fir trees sitting in the snow, the sun painting the sky with hues of pinks, yellows, and oranges as it rose over the mountain. She took a deep breath, and threw the torch. The house erupted in flames, its colors as beautiful as those of the dawn.  
>'Now is not the time to be nostalgic. Now is the time to just try and survive.'<p>

And with that she went to her mother and got on the horse. She was leaving, never to return.

They rode all day, but were still in the mountains. Merina thought they were going south, but she wasn't sure. As the sun began to set, they stopped and began to set up a camp, which with their limited supplies was mainly just setting up a fire and tying the horse to a tree.  
>"Mother, where are we going?"<br>Her mother sighed, and stared at the ground.  
>"We're going to Kvatch— it's a city in Cyrodiil. There's a man there who might<br>hide us."  
>"Might?"<br>"You know that after the Great War the Thalmor started hunting the Blades?"

Of course Merina knew. She had heard the story more times than she could count. Her mother was a Blades agent in the Summerset Isles who had been recalled just before the start of the war to look for Merina's father, who was at that point the last Septim. It was the only reason her mother hadn't been killed in the Thalmor's original purge. After the war ended and the White-Gold Concordant had been signed, her parents were on the run.

"Well, the man who helped your father and I escape Cyrodiil, the last I saw him, lived in Kvatch. But it's been almost twenty years."

They didn't really speak much after that. Dinner consisted of a few apples and some water.  
>"You should get some sleep," she heard her mother whisper, "Tomorrow's going to be a long day."<p>

She rolled over, closed her eyes, and tried to lay on as few rocks as possible. That's when her mother started to cry. Merina felt the urge to go comfort her, but she didn't think that was what her mother needed.

Merina didn't know when she fell asleep, but it felt like she hadn't gotten any when her mother woke her up. She was about to say that it was too early, but then she remembered the day before.

"It's time to go, Merina."  
>Her mother was standing in front of her, holding out a hand to lift her up and<br>Merina took it. They walked over to the horse sleepily and mechanically, as if running away from your father's elven murderers to a man who may or may not be alive, let alone help you was some everyday event. As they began to gallop off, Merina looked back and could have sworn she saw a dragon, like the ones from her story books and Imperial banners, in the distance.  
>'But that's impossible,' she thought, 'Dragons have been extinct since before the days of Talos.'<p>

She closed her eyes for a moment and when she opened them, the dragon was gone.  
>'It's too early, Merina. You're seeing things.'<p>

The next few days passed in a blur of less and less trees and more and more snow. Merina hadn't even realized that there could even be so much snow. Or such cold. It wasn't like there was no wind back home, but it was nothing like what she was experiencing now. The wind was constantly howling in her ears, the snow constantly falling, and she was constantly freezing. Even though she had been born in what was essentially a frozen waste land except for trees, it didn't mean she was used to it or that it didn't bother her. The farther they went the worse it got.

When she mentioned this to her mother, she laughed.  
>"You would hate Atmora, dear. This is the only weather there."<br>"And there's a reason no one lives in Atmora anymore."  
>"Don't worry, you'll like Kvatch. You won't see that much snow there."<br>This was partly relieving and partly even more worrying. No snow was good  
>news. But the snow was also the only thing she had ever known. And she noted how her mother hadn't included herself in her comment. The thought terrified Merina. She couldn't lose her mother, especially not now.<p>

As they made their way across the mountains, less and less snow appeared as more and more trees began to show up. As they started to descend, she began to see wildflowers in shades of yellow, blue, pink, red, and purple. Eventually, the beginnings of actual roads began to appear, though they didn't travel by them. Under any other circumstances, Merina would have loved to stay and see everything. Funnily enough, she had always wanted to travel. Now she got to, but it was for the worst of reasons. She looked ahead and was startled to see what might have been actual civilization in the basic outlines of what looked like a wall.

"Mother, what's that?" She whispered.  
>Her mother stopped the horse and looked up to the fractured wall. She sighed and frowned.<br>"That is a bad memory."

She suddenly booted the horse into action, and turned it around to head up to the fortress. Merina could never have expected what she saw. In front of her, there were the remnants of a shattered gate that must have been blown off the wall. The marble steps were crushed and splintered in many place and the braziers were knocked over. There were huge holes in the pagoda roof with singe marks and pieces knocked out. Half of the huge front door was missing. Parts of the columns were gone or lying in shambles, and what looked like half of the entire building had been completely burned to the ground. Skeletons in Blades armor were everywhere. What once must have been a grand structure was now reduced to practically rubble.

"This was Cloud Ruler Temple, the citadel of the Blades. It was sieged by the  
>Thalmor during the Great War. We did our best, but there just weren't enough of us."<br>"How did you get out?"  
>"About a hundred stayed back, making a last stand to give the rest of us a<br>chance."  
>"So where are the other Blades?"<br>Her mother stared at the ground, "I don't think there are any others," she admitted.

She started up the steps and went through the smaller door on the left. Merina  
>followed, trying hard not to fall. The room they entered was empty, but otherwise unharmed. But when they went up the stairs and through another door it was an entirely different story. Parts of the roof had fallen in. Objects had been thrown around as if a madman was searching for something.<p>

"This was where the emperors used to sleep when they were here. It hasn't  
>been used since Emperor Martin, so it was where we kept all of the Septim relics we had." Her mother seemed to be barely keeping her calm while she was speaking. When she started speaking again, she didn't even attempt to. Her face was red, and she was glaring at a wall with<p>

her hand clenched in fists.

"They took all of the artifacts as some kind of petty victory. They even melted down the armor of Tiber Septim to make a statue of their leader."

After that they moved into the great hall. Even more of the roof had caved in and the tables were marked by large gashes and heavy scorch marks. Her mother quickly guided her to another room with large doors.

This room was the most damaged. All of the roof had caved in and was in shambles across the floor. All of the shelves were on the floor and quite a few had been ruined in one way or another. Burned books strewn haphazardly on the floor, as if someone had been frantically searching for information. Ghostly burn marks were everywhere. A single skeleton lay in the middle, his robe almost completely burnt away, and his right hand was still holding the ashes of a long burnt out torch.

"This was the archive, where we kept all of our precious information. It was where most of the younger ones worked. When we realized that we were going to be overrun, one, Cidrian, stayed behind to make sure everything that couldn't be carried by the others would burn. He was eighteen, maybe nineteen." She took in a breath, as if trying to hold back tears. "This is why the Thalmor must be destroyed. They bring nothing but destruction and death and oppression. This is why you have to destroy them."

'And for Father,' Merina thought. She would destroy the Thalmor for her father if it was the last thing she did.

Her mother's words brought Merina out of her thoughts. "Swear to me you'll do this."

Merina had never seen her mother this way, so open and raw, as if her emotions were shining through a window. She could look into her eyes and see everything. Her grief, her hatred, her anger, her lust for revenge, all of the emotions that Merina thought she might have been able to see in her own eyes.

"I will. Someday I'll destroy the Thalmor, and if I don't, may my soul be cursed to Oblivion and never enter Sovngarde."

The air around them seemed to rustle at her proclamation of the ancient Nord oath in the fortress that was a reminder of what once was. What Merina would fight and die to make again. For just one second, Merina felt like she might actually be worthy of her ancestors. But the moment passed. She was just a scared, little girl. What had she done to be worthy of such a bloodline, a line of emperors and the greatest hero of Tamriel? Nothing. But she would. She would avenge her father, take back the throne, and restore her family's honor.

After that they left. The rest of the temple was just broken pottery and they couldn't stay in one place for very long, even if Merina thought they would never be found here, in the middle of nowhere. But she supposed that her parents had thought the same thing. And look where they were now.

They spent about the next three hours riding across vast, snowy plains and hills on the Silver Road until they reached a city with tall, imposing grey walls and towers. Large yellow banners with ravens hung on each side of the huge front silver gate with depictions of a woman and

soldiers fighting against the Daedra of Oblivion.

"This is Bruma, where your Corvii ancestors used to rule. It's a quite a bit bigger than it was two hundred years ago, but not that much different."  
>"Why do the banners still have ravens if the Corviis aren't there?"<br>"Probably tradition. They were also Septims, so I suppose it used to be a way  
>of showing where their loyalties lay."<p>

They dismounted and her mother gave a few Septims to the stable hand to keep the horse and a few extra to forget that they were ever there. When the guards opened the gates and they went in, Merina gasped and stopped dead in her tracks. The buildings and homes, even though they were made of stone, looked just like her own and the ones in the few Nord villages they'd occasionally visited when she was younger. The streets were packed with sheep, merchants, shoppers, and couriers, everyone speeding along to their destination. Their voices resonated against the buildings, their arguments and haggling, the bards' love songs, and the merchants shouting about their fine wears and prices. Her mother grabbed her arm and said, "Come on!"

But she smiled for the first time in what was now weeks and that made Merina smile too. The rushed through the crowds, almost running, pushing and shoving like everyone else. Merina had to shout to ask her mother, "Where are we going?"  
>She pulled Merina into one of the few places that was empty, which was a<br>dark alley.  
>"I know a place where we can get some disguises."<br>"Let me guess - another contact from twenty years ago who may or may not  
>be dead?"<br>Her mother laughed at her abrasiveness. "Trust me, I don't think this skeever  
>can die. He'll help us and stay quiet if we give him enough coin, don't worry."<p>

The farther they walked down the alley, the darker walls became. They continued to walk until they reached a tavern made of dark grey stone with mahogany brown doors. She thought she saw what might have been blood on the wall and something on the cobblestone street that might have been piss, but honestly she didn't want to know.  
>"The Lusty Argonian Maid?"<br>"Typical Cireien. Just stay right behind me and don't say anything and you should be fine."  
>"I feel so safe." She drawled.<p>

They walked in, Merina standing so close to her mother she was almost stepping on her feet. She didn't want to say she was clinging to her mother's skirts like a cowardly little child, but that was basically what she was doing.

The tavern was as unwelcoming from the inside as it was from the outside. The walls were somehow even darker, there was even less light, and there was the distinct smell of skooma. She could barely hear anything above the all encompassing shouts and cat calls. There were all types of races there, some Dark Elves, Redguards, Imperials, and a lot of Nords. She didn't see any Thalmor though. 'Maybe they've gone back to their island where they belonged,' she thought savagely.

Even though there were all types of races, they all had something in common. These were not people she would want to leave her money around, or even show them that she had any money, for that matter. All of them had at least two mugs of ale in front of them, and she thought that she had seen a wanted poster of at least one of them outside. Her mother walked right past them as if it was nothing and leaned against the bar. Merina tried her best to copy her, but had a feeling she'd failed pretty miserably.

"T'ere somebody you lookin' for, ma'm?" said a man. He was a Breton, like her mother, with oily brown hair, which was probably from a lack of bathing. His full lips were turned up in a smirk that made Merina very uncomfortable. But if his smirk made her uncomfortable, it was his eyes that took the ticket. They were almost an amber color, but not quite. They just had a look that made her want to run away very, very fast.

"Drop the act, Cireien."  
>"Nice to see you too, Delphin'. Le' me guess, you," with this he pointed at her, "need somethin'."<br>Delphine looked at him with something akin to disgust. "Would I ever even go near you if I didn't?"

Cireien put his hands in front of his heart and gave an over dramatic sigh. "You wound me, Delphin'! 'Sides, I would be nicer if I was you. The Thalmor would pay some pretty gold pieces if I tell them about you."

Delphine gave him an almost cruel smile before responding. "I'm sure that they would. As I am sure that guards would pay me, oh how did you put it, some pretty old pieces if I were to tell them about your... fine establishment. I'm sure they would just love to hear about just who you're keeping company with."  
>Cireien glared, but was silent.<br>"I suppose that means you'll help me now?"

His glare continued, not really seeming sure of what else to do. He grumbled a  
>few words that Merina probably didn't want to hear, but then turned around a motioned for them to come down a set of stairs into a basement. Then he went back to tend the bar.<br>At first glance it was almost exactly like the upstairs part they'd been in, dark,  
>dingy, dirty, and once again the smell of skooma permeated the air. But then Merina started noticing smaller details. Like copies of the papers you needed to cross into to places like Morrowind. There were sets of clothing in all shapes, sizes, colors, and types. There were also, strangely enough, buckets upon buckets of ink.<p>

The last week or so had not exactly been the most normal for Merina, but  
>she'd been handling pretty well in her opinion. But something seemed to finally snap when she saw her mother randomly bend down and start to lather her hair in ink.<p>

"What are you doing that for?"  
>Her mother looked at her as if she had a screw loose. This only infuriated Merina even more. "This is exactly what I'm talking about! You never tell me anything! Why are we going to Kvatch?"<br>"I told you that there-"  
>"You said that there's a man who might still be alive and if so might take us in! And we're risking our lives for this, instead of hiding somewhere were there are no loose ends. Why?!"<p>

At this her mother seemed to completely slump and slowly fell to the floor, pulling her knees to her chest. She had become almost a strange picture, her blonde hair stained by black dye, her once vibrant cobalt blue dress now dull and torn. Her mother had loved that dress. Merina had thought her the most beautiful woman in the world, her incomparable features were without flaw. Now, she saw wrinkles and the beginnings of grey streaks. Her mother's silvery blue eyes, so much like Merina's and Father's, now had large bags under them. She had lost weight.

"We're not going to stay in Kvatch. You are." She said in a thick voice. Merina's eyes widened and her face contorted in confusion, then pain, and then disguised that with rage.  
>"You're leaving me?! Now that Father's dead, you're casting off the last of your<br>family like a piece of trash! How-"  
>Her mother looked as if she had been punched square in the face.<br>"You are not the only one who lost him!" She thundered and as she did, Merina took a step back and put her arms in front of herself, almost like a shield. She probably looked like she was about to cry, because that was what she felt like doing. She had felt like that days. She wanted to hug her mother and cry and just say she was sorry. But she wouldn't. She wasn't in the wrong. She wasn't the one who was abandoning her own child. Merina had done nothing wrong. So why did she still feel so terrible?

Her mother let out a frustrated sigh and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Look, I'm sorry, Merina." Her tone then softened," I'm just doing this to protect you, don't- don't even think that this could ever-"

Merina crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes. She stayed silent, forcing herself to keep down any apology or words of understanding. This was just manipulation, plain and simple. If her mother was really sorry, she wouldn't leave her. Especially not now. Her mother threw her arms in defeat, "Fine, be that way."

She began to color her hair again. In silence, Merina started to look for a dress in her size. She didn't want to wear her mother's blue anymore. Maybe she would try red. She would just have to remember to take the amulet out of her pocket. To say losing it would be an absolute nightmare would be an understatement. It took her a while, but she did find a dress that fit. Unfortunately, it was an ugly brown.

'At least it's inconspicuous,' she thought with regret. She would have loved a red dress. It didn't matter, she didn't have anymore time to look for another. She quickly changed, pulled the amulet out of her very dirty pocket, and quickly put it on right next to the raven amulet her father had given to her for one of her birthdays. She thought it might have been her third.

By the time they had left the Lusty Argonian Maid, it was almost dark. Neither of them thought it would be wise to stay at an inn, so they kept riding in stony silence. Merina tried to fall asleep as quickly as possible to escape the awkwardness.

When she woke up, the first two things that she noticed were sun had already risen and her back was screaming in pain. The third was they were in some kind of forest so dense with trees that if Merina even tried to slightly move her arms, she would smack right into a branch. The fourth was that she and her mother still weren't speaking, even to extend the basic courtesy of a good morning. Merina didn't want to be the first to try. She was still angry, and though she would never admit it, more than a bit hurt.

The trees went on for miles, which made the landscape was so boring, so Merina fell asleep again pretty quickly. She was quickly jostled awake again, though, when a a pack of wolves jumped out at them. Merina quickly went for her iron dagger, where had she left it? Before she was even able to pull it out of her bag, her mother had quickly dispensed all of them with a few clean blows of her sword.

"We're almost there."

That depended on your definition of almost there. In actuality it would be about one more day before they reached Kvatch. The rest of the journey consisted of staring blankly at trees, eating some apples, killing wolves, staring at more trees, feeling lost (at least in Merina's case), looking for a road (any road), and staring at more trees. The monotony was finally broken when they emerged from the forest to see the glory of the plains. Merina had always wanted to travel, but if this was what the rest of the world looked like, then it was a little overhyped in her books.

For the rest of the journey it was a collection of more hills and plains. She saw the most beautiful orange Tiger Lilies that she could have never even imagined seeing in the Jeralls. And there was more grass than she had ever thought possible. It was definitely different. But maybe it wasn't that bad.

Merina wished her father could have been there to see it with her. He had always told her about his incredible travels, ones with the Legion under a legate named Tullius. Those were her second favorites. Her very favorite stories were the ones with her mother, how she had found him and had to pull him out of battle, how she saved him from many an assassination attempt, and how they crossed the great Alik'r Desert together. How they fell in love and got married. He probably would have known everything about this place, and they would have gone on the greatest adventures. He would teach her everything he knew, like she had always wanted him to do. Now he never could.

The thought sobered Merina. Over the course of the journey, she had been trying not to think of her father. Now that she did, it cut into her like a mortal wound in the chest and made her want to throw up her small breakfast. She tried to rid herself of thoughts of him as quickly as possible, but the feeling remained. It also made her feel even worse that she was trying to forget him. That's when she found her solace, something to stop her from feeling so horrible, as if she was being crushed under the heaviest of weights. She focused the emotions that made the blood rush to her face, her hands curl into fists, and her heart race. Anger and hatred. It exhilarated, and at the same time, terrified her. It was strange and different, and yet also gave her purpose. Maybe she couldn't stay with her mother. She certainly couldn't bring back her father. But she could get her revenge on the people to blame. She could pay back the Thalmor, the killers of fathers and destroyers of families. Who knew how many others had gone through what Merina was going through now?

And that was what solidified Merina's resolve. The idea of letting what happened to her happen to others. No more children would see their fathers murdered. No more children would need to hide with a stranger. No other child would ever suffer at the hand of the Thalmor again.  
>The Thalmor would never again kill parents and separate families. The Thalmor would no longer kill thousands for their beliefs or for who they Thalmor would no longer try and destroy her empire. Because she would make sure they burned. And they would know her fear and her pain and her suffering. They cared little others, feeling as if they were some master race, and they would suffer that same lack of empathy. They deserved it.<p>

Most importantly, Merina would find the one. The thing she could barely call a woman that had slaughtered her father. Yes, Merina had no idea what she looked like besides the fact that she was a High Elf (and while there weren't a lot of them, there was obviously more than one). Yes, the only thing Merina had to go on was her voice and the fact she was a woman, which wasn't exactly the most specific of information. But it would be enough. She would find that monster and kill her. Maybe not that day or the next, but someday, she would.

She didn't know when she fallen asleep. It was a little embarrassing how she kept doing that. She supposed that she just couldn't take anymore of looking at the same trees and hills with the same flowers and animals over and and over and over again. It gave her too much time to think about things she'd just rather forget about. Now there was something new.

It was a city, the grandest she'd ever seen, although that wasn't saying much. The first thing she noticed were the silver gates with guards in brilliant steel flanking it on either side. The gate had pictures of a woman and an army fighting hoards of Daedra. It also showed Oblivion gates on both the left and the right side. The one in the middle was breaking with the same woman in front of it. The full moon was shining in such a way that the gates almost seemed to be lit up. The shining grey stone walls were tall and imposing, with blue banners that depicted a formidable looking wolf.

"This is Kvatch. It was completely destroyed during the Oblivion Crisis, so when Aurelia became the countess, she rebuilt to her tastes. The only thing you'll see that's even close to an original structure is the temple. She had that one built exactly the way it was built before."

Kvatch. It certainly didn't seem like a bad place to live. She would have been happy to live there, if she could have stayed with her mother.  
>"You'll need to get in this sack."<br>"What?!"  
>Her mother looked at her with an upturned eyebrow. This really aggravated Merina.<br>'Not all of us have been fugitives for twenty years,' she thought sourly.  
>Her mother seemed to realize this, as she explained, "The guards can't see me come in with a child and leave without one."<br>"Because coming in with a suspiciously large bag and leaving without it is just so much more inconspicuous?"  
>"This is city is all about trade, no one will give a second glance to a woman carrying a bag as long as you don't move. And it's the Festival of Aurelia. Everyone's going to be a bit more laid back. Just as long as you don't move. Now get in the bag."<p>

Merina gave one last huff of protest, but complied. It was very dark, and far worse, very stuffy. She hoped that this wouldn't take very long. Her mother then lifted the bag up, swung it over her shoulder, and then began carrying it like Merina was nothing. Merina couldn't believe that she was that strong. True, Merina wasn't that big for someone her age (in fact most would call her tiny) but it wasn't like she was a bag of fruit.

As her mother walked, the bag swung, which wasn't the most comfortable of sensations. 'Don't move. Don't move.' She thought, even trying to breathe as little as possible.

It got a lot harder when her mother was stopped for whatever reason. The voices of the people talking to her mother were muffled through the bag, so Merina couldn't hear them. This made her very worried. She started to breathe very rapidly and it was getting harder to stay still. Was it the guards? The Thalmor? As it turned out, it was just some old drunk asking her mother for money, but Merina didn't know that, and her imagination sort of ran away with her.

But no one checked the bag, and soon enough she had calmed down. Mostly, anyway. Her mother kept walking, then took a sharp right turn, and clearly the gods smiled on Merina because she put down the bag.

"Can I get out of this?" She said urgently.  
>Merina thought she heard her mother laugh, but she most definitely heard her<br>reply affirmatively. Merina practically jumped out of the bag, gasping for clean air. Now she could definitely hear her mother laughing at her ridiculousness. Merina didn't care, that bag had been ridiculously stifling. She was just happy to be out of that thing.  
>"We can go on foot from here." Her mother said, still smiling.<br>"Just where exactly are we going?"  
>"The temple of Akatosh, we can take a few of the back streets there."<br>As they walked along the grey stone streets, Merina looked at the buildings. They were all made of white marble with open layouts. She saw all kinds of marble fountains and white alabaster statues. If Aurelia had designed this city, she certainly had a thing for the color white, which was why it was why it was a pretty big shock to see what exactly the temple looked like. It was like going back two hundred years. This was where Aurelia had gone, fighting Daedra and monsters as she went, to find the last direct heir to the throne. She'd had this built exactly the way it had been when Martin lived there. That was slightly... odd. When she said this, her mother gave her a look.

"It's more complicated than that. Her parents kept her isolated from most people when she was young, so when she actual got to make a... connection with someone, and something happened to them, she took it pretty hard. She was, well, complicated."  
>"How do you know all of this?"<br>"When I was looking for your father, I made a point to know who his relatives were."  
>Of course she would.<p>

The temple itself wasn't ugly or odd on its own, it was just incredibly different than everything else around it. It was in a more gothic style, with light grey brick walls and dark green stain glass windows. But it stood out like a sore thumb against the white marble and alabaster that the rest of the city was made of.

Her mother began walking up the steps to the large doors, projecting an aura of confidence. Merina, on the other hand, followed her tentatively. They still didn't know if this man would help them, or even if he would still help them. What would they do if he refused? Or worse, turned them over to the Thalmor?

Her mother knocked on the door, the sound resonating through the empty street. A man opened it, his face lined with wrinkles and his hair almost completely grey. He looked up at Merina's mother, seemingly saying, 'What could be so important that you had to wake me up for in the middle of the night?'  
>"Where were you on the thirtieth of Frostfall?"<br>Merina was confused. Why would she be asking this man where he was on  
>her birthday? Or, when she thought about it more carefully, why would she ask where you were the day the Great War started?<p>

The man gave a startled smile at that, "Delphine?!"  
>Her mother also smiled, though it seemed more relieved than his. "Hello, Darion." Her smile then faded, and it seemed like the weight of the world had suddenly crashed down on her, and it was all she could do to hold it up.<p>

The man, Darion, moved closer to her, a look of concern on his face. "What's happened? Where is Adaric?"

Of course he knew her father, Darion had helped him escape Cyrodiil. She had never really thought about it. She wondered if they really knew each other, or if he was just another of her mother's many "associates". It was then that he seemed to notice her, as he glanced over her for the first time. "Who is this?" He said, even though he already seemed to know.

"This is Merina. Adaric, he- he sacrificed himself so we could get away."  
>Darion seemed to understand her meaning, without her saying anymore.<br>"Why don't you come inside?"

Inside was a beautiful wooden room, with a tall arching walls that came into the roof. There were two long rows of light pine wood benches in front of a pulpit. Lit candles were in every part of the room, illuminating it in warm yellow light. On the inside the stained glass windows were all portraits of eight of the divines. The ninth was covered up by a dark curtain. In the center of the portraits' half circle was the picture of Akatosh, the dragon god of time.

"Darion, I hate to ask this, but-"  
>"You need me to take care of Merina don't you?" He said with a comforting smile.<br>"Yes. You're the only one who can teach her to use the amulet."

Merina was confused, what did she mean by that? She knew that the amulet used to be used to light the dragonfires, by this point everyone knew that, but did this mean that it could be used for other things? If there were, then they had to be ways that were at least a little unlikely to get her killed. Or destroy the amulet.

But that only led to more questions. How did this man know how to use the amulet? How did he even know that she had it?

The man nodded. "Then you'll help?" Her mother said, a hint of desperation seeping back into her voice.

The man cocked his his head slightly to the right and took a good look at her.  
>His eyes were a deep brown, like soil in First Seed, and they seemed to almost look through her. It was slightly unnerving and Merina wanted to take a step back. But she also didn't want to seem like a coward before her mother had even left. So she held her ground and stared right back at him. He seemed to like this, as he smiled, almost fondly at her.<p>

"She's the spitting image of her father."  
>No one had ever told her that before. In fact, the few people who knew her<br>parents actually said she looked like her mother. But the fact that he said she reminded her of him made Merina very pleased. She had always wanted to remind people of her father.

"Yes, I'll take her in."  
>Her mother then turned to her, a small, sad smile on her face. Merina's eyes were watering and it was all she could do to hold back tears. Her mother leaned down, putting her hands on Merina's shoulders.<p>

"Merina," she said, "I know you can do this."  
>The tears were now readily falling down her face, she was just trying to keep herself from sobbing. "I can't," she said.<br>Her mother smiled, and then said forcefully, "You might not think so, but I know that you'll be empress. The greatest."  
>This forced Merina to smile, but she sniffled.<br>"Why?"  
>Merina clearly didn't look convinced, so her mother continued.<br>"I know this. Your father knew it. He died to protect you, knowing that someday the empire would need you to be the empress. You might not think you're worthy now, but someday, I promise you will."  
>"The empire doesn't need a little girl."<br>"No. It needs a strong, confident leader. The leader I know you will become. Remember the dagger."

The dagger. It was a present her mother had given her when she was ten. Her mother had said she needed to learn to protect herself.  
>"Sometimes it is the small, unexpected weapon that does the most damage," she had said.<p>

Merina nodded, saying that she remembered and was glad that she had brought it with her. That was when her mother pulled her into a hug. Merina hugged her back, the tears flowing, and suddenly she was sobbing. She thought her mother might have been crying too, though she was probably trying to hold it in.

"I love you," her mother said, her voice thick with emotion.  
>Between sobs, Merina managed to respond. She was still resentful at her mother for not telling her, for leaving her. Maybe she always would be. But Merina loved her. This was her mother and she always would be. And no matter what, Merina would always love her.<p>

Later, Merina would be glad that she had said this, instead of petulantly ignoring her, because they would not see each other for eleven years.

After that, her mother gently sat her down on one of the benches. Then, she gave her one last sad smile, and left. Merina watched her walk out the door and then ran to the window, staring at her until she was out of sight.

The priest put his hand on her shoulder. "I'll show you to your room." He said kindly. Or what she supposed was kindly. It was hard to tell, as his voice was rather harsh.

They walked down a flight of stairs to a dark hallway and then went right. They were in front of had a small door. When Darion opened the door it revealed a small, spartan room with only a bed, dresser, and chamber pot. The walls were a bluish grey, and the floor was a dark wood.  
>"This was Martin Septim's room, wasn't it?" She asked, but she already knew the answer. She didn't know how she knew, but she did. He looked at her strangely, as if he was expecting that response, and nodded. Merina folded her arms in front of her. She felt uncomfortable sleeping in a dead man's room. Even if it wasn't the same bed and that was two hundred years ago. It still made her feel strange.<p>

That night, she tossed and turned. She couldn't get the image of a man who had died a violent death sleeping in this spot out of her head.  
>'That's it,' she thought, 'I'm moving this bed.' She scampered out of bed, while trying to make as little noise as possible, and pulled at the bed with all of her might. It moved maybe an inch. This would take forever. That got her thinking.<br>'Mother said something about training to use the amulet. Maybe...'

It was stupid. It probably wasn't going to work. But she was going to try anyway. She took in a deep breath, closed her eyes, and concentrated. She could feel the amulet grow hot against her chest. It got hotter and hotter, until Merina felt like she was in an inferno, the fire almost touching her. She opened her eyes, gasping for breath, and fell to the floor. She felt like she hadn't eaten for days and was exhausted. That was when she looked up to see the bed on the other side of the room.

Brother Darion ran in, searching for the source of the noise. When he saw her lying on the ground staring at the amulet, which really just looked like a gold necklace that had an abnormally large ruby in it, in shock. He then saw the bed and the cracks it created in the wall.  
>"We'll have to start tomorrow."<p>

Merina was to tired to ask what he meant. He picked her up from under her arms and practically carried her to bed. She fell asleep immediately. That was when the nightmares started.

A/N: Ok, there are going to be some changes in lore, some major. When there is one, I'll mention it in an author's note. One is right in the summary, so I won't mention it. Here are the big ones. One; I refuse to believe that there weren't at least a couple cousins of the Septims. This was a hundereds of years old dynasty, that's just not possible. Two; the wiki says that the grandson that succeded Tiber Septim was succeded by his cousin. But it also only mentions one kid (a son) of T.S. For the grandson to have a Septim cousin, T.S. needed to more than one kid. So I say that he had two sisters. Three; Morrowind. If you take all your troops out of two of your provinces and it's getting invaded and no one mentions this, I take it to mean that Morrowind has unofficially left the empire. Hope you enjoy!

Beta by vaguelyfestive


	2. Chapter 2

_"While more of Merina is known from this eleven year period of her life, there is still little information about the woman. But it was here that she would meet some of the more important people in her life and she would gain some of her greatest weapons."  
>~ Life of the Empress Kintrya III, Volume One, by Chaeis Belarnion<br>_  
>The nightmare was always the same. She was back home, in the mountains, alone. She would hear a noise behind her and turn around. That was when she saw him. Her father, his eyes lifeless, his shirt covered in blood.<p>

"Why did you let me die?"

She would stumble back, barely able to push out reasons of why she couldn't have done anything. She was only ten, still a child, and had no weapon. If she had done anything, she would have been killed. No father would want that. But no matter how reasonable those arguments might have been, she still felt guilty. Like she could have done more, at least done something to try and save him, and her father would move forward.

"You should have done something! I died for you, and what do you do. You run and you hide like a little coward! Why would I ever want a daughter like you? Why would anyone want someone like you?"

Then, Merina would reach out to him, to tell him she was sorry and that she loved him. But when her hand reached his shoulder, he would melt into a pool of blood on the snow. And the dream would end.

She would wake up, gasping for breath and tears running down her face. Even if it was the middle of the night, she couldn't fall back to sleep. So, she would tiptoe out of her room to the temple's small library and read. She had only been in Kvatch for maybe a week, but she was starting to run out of books. And the priest, Brother Darion, was starting to notice how tired she was. Or he was noticing at how she was completely and utterly failing at his training. Merina liked to think that was because she completely and utterly exhausted. She didn't think her pride could take it if it wasn't.  
>-<p>

She was sitting on the ground cross legged and with her eyes closed. Three small stones were in front of her. Brother Darion stood somewhere behind her.

"You have to be completely calm. Breathe in through your nose and out through your mouth."

Merina tried, but it sounded more like a cross between an impatient huff and an annoyed sigh. Which, in all honesty, was what it was.

"Try to think of something peaceful. The deer, the grass, the sun."

'But deer are eaten, the grass gets trampled, and the sun burns.' She thought cynically.

She tried anyway. She thought of the summers at home. She realized that they were hardly what anyone else would call summer, but she still called them that. It was the small two month period where the sun would actually be up after six, the snowstorms stopped, and the ice and frost started actually started to melt. It was at that time, where if Merina went outside, she could almost feel warm. She could wear five layers instead of six. Those months were wonderful.

"Now, focus those calm thoughts on lifting the stones. Try lifting one of the stones."

What? What did he mean by that? How in Oblivion was she supposed to "focus" those thoughts into levitating the stone? But she had to try.

'Okay, rock, float.' She thought.

She opened one eye. The rock hadn't even moved. Just like it hadn't the past thirty times they had tried this exercise.

"This is pointless. I can't do it."

He looked as frustrated as she felt.

"Perhaps if you concentrated more then-"

Merina felt her blood boil.

"Well, if it's that easy, then why don't you do it? Oh, that's right, you can't! You've never been able to do this in your life. But of course you're just the perfect teacher and that, well, if I can't do it the problem is me!"

As she said this, she didn't notice the fact that the amulet had begun to glow a brilliant red. She did take notice, however, when the jar that flew across the room and smashed into the wall by itself.

"This is why I am trying to teach you! You never think before you act! If you can not control yourself, the power of Akatosh will consume you!"

Merina stormed out and slammed the doors behind her. She could not take another second in that pompous ass' presence.

When she got out, she just went left. She walked straight out of town, not caring who saw her stomp away, fists clenched and back hunched with a glare on her face. She didn't have a clue where she was going and didn't quite care as long as it was far away from him. She just kept walking and walking until she found the field of flowers.

It was filled with orange tiger lilies that stretched as far as the eye could see, for miles and miles. It was one of the most beautiful things she had ever seen.

But her anger was still there, and just thinking about it made it rise back to the surface. Now that she was alone, it boiled over. She threw the amulet on the ground. For a second, she felt a rush of satisfaction. Then she thought, 'Oh Gods, what have I done?!'

What if she had broken it? What if it wouldn't work anymore? Had she doomed the world?! Once again, what had she done?! She immediately rushed over to it. Luckily, it was fine, not even a scratch or mark on it and she breathed a sigh of relief. Gods, how had she been so dumb? Brother Darion was right, she didn't think of the consequences. She never had.

'Well, no more,' she thought with determination. It was time to shape up. She glanced at the amulet, which was still resting in her hand. If she didn't have any self control, she was going to get herself killed. Even if she didn't have the amulet, there was the Thalmor to think about. They might not know where she was, or even that she existed, but they were still a threat. Because someday, they would. Someday, they would find her. Nothing stays secret forever. But when they came, she would be ready. She was going to have to.

She breathed out a long sigh and slowly sat down, her brown dress fitting in with the speckled flowers. She still held the amulet in her hand, her thumb rubbing over its large ruby unconsciously. What was it he had said? Something about the power of Akatosh.

A switch seemed to go off in her brain. He had said the power of Akatosh. Nother own power. She was just channeling it to work for her.

She put the amulet on and closed her eyes.

'In through your nose,' she thought.

She took in a long, deep breath.

'Out through your mouth,'

And let it out.

She felt the amulet grow warm against her chest once again. But instead of feeling like she was on fire, she just felt a bit warm. In through her nose and out through her mouth. In through her nose and out through her mouth.

She felt bad for yelling. He felt like a stranger to her and maybe, just maybe, she taking out her resentment of the situation on him. But it couldn't have been easy for him either. After all, she was a stranger too. She doubted that he liked this anymore than she did. And what had he gotten, to make this any easier? He had gotten a brat.

In through her nose and out through her mouth.

She should apologize. She would apologize as soon as she got back, and she would inform him of her success. Maybe it would make him happy to know that she wasn't a total failure.

As she was doing this thinking, there were two things she didn't see. The first was that as she breathed in, the petals of the flowers contracted inward, like they were still buds. And when she breathed out, they burst open again, once again revealing their beauty. Inwards and outwards. Breathing in and breathing out.

The second thing was that someone was watching her. Now, if she had known this, she would not have just sat there. She probably would have beat them to a pulp and then made them swear not to tell anyone what they saw. If that watcher told someone, that someone would tell someone else, and it was just a matter of who told who before the Thalmor found out. But she was concentrating, so she didn't see them.

The watcher was a young boy her age. He was taller than her, as most people were, with brown hair and tan skin. He was staring in confusion and perhaps a bit of fear at her. He summoned up his courage, though, and tentatively started walking towards her.

"Um... hello. I'm- I'm Avitus."

She stared at him, not knowing how to react. He had probably seen what she doing. Should she run away? No, that wouldn't do much good now, he'd already seen her face. Besides, for some reason, she felt she could trust him. So she she said, as confidently as she could, "I'm Merina."

She then looked at him and added, rather bluntly, "What are you doing here?"

"I, um, I-"

Merina suddenly felt like an idiot. It was probably personal. Stupid! The first person she meets other than Brother Darion and she mucks it up her first two sentences.

"I'm sorry, you don't have to answer that."

She was relieved to see him smile.

"No, it's okay. My father went to the Imperial City. I'm not going to see him till Frostfall."

She was satisfied with that answer and felt like it would be rude to ask anymore. It wasn't any of her business anyway and she had only just met him.

"I haven't seen you before. Why are you here?"

Now it was her turn to stutter. Stupidly enough, she hadn't thought of an excuse as to why she was mysteriously in Kvatch. She was never going to make that mistake again. She started making things up on the fly.

"My parents, they- they died of... of plague. Brother Darion is my uncle, so they sent me to live with him."

He seemed to realize that she wasn't telling him the truth, but he nodded and smiled. He had a really nice smile.

They stared at the ground in awkward silence. Merina was the first to speak.

"I feel like that went wrong. Do you want to try again?"

He gave another wonderful smile.

"I'm Avitus."

She gave a small smile that was almost a smirk, only the left side of her mouth going up.

"I'm Merina."

It was the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

They went to town together. Avitus knew all the best shortcuts and hiding places. Just as they were walking to the northern side of town, they stopped.

There were three children, each of a different race, in the road. The smallest, and probably the youngest seeing as the "high elves", as they called themselves were some of the tallest people in Tamriel, was backing away from the other two. One was a Nord, with the typical height and bulk, and the other was a Wood Elf, with their typical looks as well. He was probably the oldest as he was almost as tall as the Nord.

'Great,' Merina thought, 'even Wood Elves are taller than me.'

She then saw the look of terror on the Altmer's face. Avitus saw her looking and tugged at her shoulder.

"Come on, let's go."

"What? Why?"

She then saw the two boys proceed to beat up the third.

"There's nothing we can do. Come on, let's go!"

But Merina simply shrugged his hand off her shoulder and began to walk forward.

"Leave him alone."

They took one look at her and laughed. Admittedly, she wasn't very fearsome looking. She was small for her age and at least a head shorter than them. She had no scars or battle wounds to make her tough. Her hair was a dark blonde and delicate. Except for her harsh features, she looked more like a story's damsel in distress rarer her than its knight.

Their laughing came to an abrupt stop when she knocked the Wood Elf over with a hard kick to the shin. As he fell, she slammed her fist into his nose. She heard a loud crack, and turned around. Avitus had knocked the Nord down as well. The two boys ran away pretty quickly after that.

Avitus smiled a lopsided grin. "You fight pretty well. For a girl."

She narrowed her eyes at that last part, but smiled. "Yeah, a girl who just knocked over a guy twice her size."

"Let's see you do that without surprise."

"It'd be just as easy. And I'm always surprising."

"We'll see about that."

By the time they had finished boasting to each other about their skills in combat, the Altmer boy was gone. It barely registered to her that she didn't think of his as Thalmor. She supposed it was hard to think of someone as frightening when they were cowering on the ground in terror. If they were all like that, then she wondered why anyone was afraid of them. Because she wasn't. Of course she wasn't.

They continued on to their destination, through a second set of silver gates. Aurelia Corvii also seemed to have thing for silver. Weird. They kept walking until the reached a large ruin of crumbling stone.

"What is that?"

As it turned out, it was the ruins of an Oblivion Gate.

"It was the first." Avitus said. He got a gleam in his and spoke with almost adoration about Aurelia Corvii and Martin Septim.

"She should have taken the throne!" He blurted out. But he seemed to regret it it immediately as he quickly added, "But don't tell anyone I said that!"

Merina tried to change the subject and he seemed relieved when she did by saying, "Why didn't they get rid of it?"

"I don't know. Marble's expensive? Ran out of money?"

"I heard that Aurelia Corvii was the richest person in the world. Couldn't they just use that money?"

Avitus scoffed. "Are you kidding? After she died she locked it up real tight. No one knows where it is. I've been looking for years and I've never gotten a clue."

"Well, you didn't have me."

He looked skeptical. "How are we going to have any idea where to even start looking?"

It was then that she knew he agreed. "Simple, books. I'll look in the temple's library."

"What about me?"

"Just how high up is your father on the political ladder?"

Avitus immediately looked suspicious. "I never mentioned my father's political career."

"No, but you did mention that he would be gone for months. And your clothes are too nice and you have too much free time for him to be poor. So, how important is he?"

He really did have nice clothes. He was wearing dark green silk and his hands didn't have any callouses. Not that she was looking at them. All right, she had been. But her parents had taught her to look for the slightest details about people. They said that could mean the difference between life and a sword in your gullet or poison in your drink.

"He's important enough. Why?"

"Because that means you can get into the castle's library- it has one, right?"

He nodded. It was just then that Merina realized how late it was getting. The sun was already setting. And she still needed to apologize to Brother Darion.

"I have to go. I'll see you tomorrow?"

He smiled once again. "Yeah, you will."

They spent the next year or so looking for it, but they never found it. They moved on to other things. Avitus' mysterious father- Merina was beginning to think he was just a figment of Avitus' imagination seeing as she hadn't even been told his name- had hired swordsman for Avitus to train under. It was an unspoken agreement between the two that Merina would get lessons as well.

One time they were sparring with wooden swords under the watchful eyes of the teacher Marius. Avitus aimed a blow at her arm that she narrowly avoided. They had been training for three weeks now and both had learned the other's strategy. Merina was not as strong as Avitus, but she was faster and could last longer. So he tried to hit areas that would slow her down and she tried to simply stay out of reach until he was tired. By this point, though, they knew each other so well, that they just fought to a standstill. Merina could no longer tire him out and she was still too fast for him to get.

Marius seemed to be growing tired of it, as he shouted, "Stop!"

They both froze in place, Merina about dodge another strike and Avitus' sword just above her right elbow.

He told them that they were going to do something different now. He tied a blindfold over Merina's eyes and told Avitus to try and hit her with his sword.

Merina could feel her heart thumping and she was trying to hear everything. It wasn't that hard. Avitus walked loudly, even when he was trying to be sneaky. She could hear him coming from the left, closer and closer. At the last minute, she quickly moved out of the way. Wooden swords might not kill, but they sure did sting. She took the blindfold off and was rewarded by seeing Marius smile. He had never smiled at her performance in all the weeks that they had been training.

He said that she was going to learn something a little different than Avitus. He began to teach her all of these tracking skills, how to sneak, and how to use a bow well. He taught her how to hide herself better in a crowd. He said that she kept her back to straight. It was true, she never slouched. He showed her all the berries that could change the color of hair and how to change her voice. She wondered how he knew all of this, but she never asked. She got her answer when she saw a thin, steel blade in a dark leather scabbard. It looked just like her mother's.

In that moment, she felt more elated than she had since before she had left home. Here was someone that could understand who she was, someone who could tell her about her mother. She wondered how she could ask him, someway so that if she was wrong, he wouldn't know. She took a deep breath, summoning all of her courage, knowing that this was a risk, but also needing to know.

"Where were you on the thirtieth of Frostfall?"

She had practically whispered it and for a moment, she thought she hadn't even heard her. But she saw the look on his face, one of fear and hope, and she knew that he had.

"What did you say?"

She told him her story, leaving out just who her father was. He told her his. He was one of the Blades agents in the Summerset Isles just before the air started and barely escaped the purge. He had survived by changing his name at least a dozen times and moving around all the time, like her parents had. He wouldn't tell her what his name was originally and it didn't really matter. He said he preferred his new one anyway.

Avitus and she kept training under Marius for the next three months. He got a lot better and so did she. They still couldn't best each other. No matter how quiet or sneaky Avitus was, he rarely surprised her. And no matter how fast or skilled with a blade she got, she still had to very hard to hit him with her sword. She was leagues beyond him with the bow, but she could never hope to be as good as him with the shield. If she even attempted to scratch him when he had that thing, she was doomed to fail. They both preferred the one handed blade and were about equal in skill. Merina might have learned the basics from her parents, but Avitus was a quick learner. She wasn't. It had taken her about a year to learn those basics. Avitus could learn a technique from Marius in one or two lessons, Merina took at least five or six. But once she got something, she had it down. Perhaps Avitus had natural talent. But Merina could wait and let things take their time. She could spend weeks trying to master one thing. Because when her time came, it wouldn't be raw talent that got her through. It would be careful, cold practice. Knowing everything she needed to know to the letter. If she just depended on being born good, she was going to fail. Very easily and very quickly, as a laughing stock. Merina felt that it was worse to practice the same thing for days on end instead of that. So she continued to practice. Avitus might know things she didn't, yet he couldn't beat her calm mastery of what she did.

Everything was going fine, she was learning both the lessons Marius taught them and how to use the amulet from Brother Darion. She had finally managed to move those rocks, but Merina had a long way to go until she was ready to light the Dragonfires. Trying to put something that wasn't there into existence was a different level of magnitude from moving a couple of rocks. She was progressing though. For the past two months, she had been learning how to use the amulet to make a barrier, like one of the ward spells, but more powerful. She had managed to do it, but only about a second. But she was pleased with herself. It had taken her a month to get any sign of a reaction at all from the amulet, so this was a good start. The only bad part was the Temple rituals, which involved standing for hours, no open windows, and a lot of smoke from inscence. But it wasn't so terrible. Some of the time it was pretty fun and she got into it. She was just terrified that she would drop the candles.

And then Marius disappeared. No one had any idea of where he could have gone, but when Brother Darion said they were going to find something sacred to the followers of Akatosh in some cave the next day, Merina had a pretty good idea. It was reaffirmed when she returned, Avitus mentioned the swarms of Thalmor that had come. He said they were looking for Talos worshipers.

"But everyone stopped worshiping Talos after the treaty!" He said, and then muttered under his breath, "At least publicly."

In that moment, Merina understood terror. She would never admit it, but she felt like she was going to puke, faint, and scream all at the same time. She felt weak at the knees, and if she was honest, even with herself she felt the feeling that only terror could produce. That all encompassing feeling that she was going to die. She just wanted to curl in a ball, hide, and just pray to all the Nine, and even the Daedra, that they wouldn't find her. That feeling went away, at least a little, when Avitus mentioned that they had left about three weeks ago. He must have seen the strange expression on her face.

That feeling didn't go away and festered for most of that year. Had she been the reason that Marius was caught, was it her fault? She, once again, couldn't sleep. The nightmares had come back. She could barely eat. She was naturally small, but she just seemed to shrink in. She could have been caught, she could have died. Or worse. She had heard the stories.

Things got better during the weeks before the Festival of Aurelia came around. The festival was the last day of the year, the 31st of Evening Star, so most of the food was gone. So the city was packed with farmers and hunters, merchants with the most beautiful fabrics, mages throwing fire, and everything was dirt cheap. Silver banners with ravens flew from every high latch and sign. Alkanet flowers were everywhere and it was much warmer than what Merina was used to. It was weird, there wasn't any snow and the weather wasn't that different from summer. It was a little colder, but not that much.

Avitus was ecstatic to have his father back, even if he didn't say it. Merina still hadn't met him. In fact, she didn't even know Avitus' last name. Maybe it was embarrassing. Maybe he had an unsavory ancestor. She was going to have to ask him. She didn't feel right not even knowing her closest and only friend's last name.

Avitus was home more often, and Merina didn't blame him, but she still missed him. Sometimes, she secretly wanted the man to leave again so she could have her friend back, but immediately felt horrible. She did want to meet his father. He kept telling her that he was waiting for the right time. This made her worry about just who he was living with, but Avitus assured her that there was nothing to worry about. She took his word for it and hoped she was making the right decision.

As it turned out, she was, which was very relieving. At first, the man looked like an older version of Avitus. He had the brown eyes, with the same fire, and brown hair, though his was mostly grey and was in the standard military cut. But when she looked a little longer, she saw the real differences. Avitus' father carried himself differently. He wasn't a Nord or Elf, but the way he carried himself made him appear taller than he was. And his eyes were hard. True, they had the same light as Avitus' did, but they had a colder light to them. As if he had seen things that made everything else look like a stroll in the park. When she learned who he was, that made sense.

His voice was crisp and clear, with an accent that she didn't recognize, when he said, "Who is this?"

"Father, this is- this is Merina, the girl I told you about. Remember?"

Merina was rather flattered that he'd mentioned her, but didn't say anything.

"Oh yes, I remember. You would not stop heaping praise on our entire journey." The man didn't sound angry, just exhausted. But he smiled and turned his head to her, "Do I know you?"

She couldn't imagine where they could have met. She traveled around Skyrim a little when her father was still alive, but they never stayed in one place for long. She would have remembered meeting this man.

"I don't think so." She didn't exactly know what to call him and saying sir sounded like groveling.

"I am General Tullius."

She knew that name. That was the name of her father's commander! She was about to mention that, but then she remembered her lie. She had said that Brother Darion was her uncle —specifically her father's brother. The Imperial Army kept records of their soldiers and they probably mentioned family. Her story would be blown apart.

Pretty soon, Avitus pulled her away, apologizing for his father's inability to make small talk. He then brought her to a small corner near a platform.

"This is the best place to see the end of the ceremony!" He chattered on about it, seeming unable to stop talking. That was probably from the time, it was almost midnight. Pretty soon, people started lighting scented candles and burning incense. Merina didn't like incense. Back in the temples she'd gone to in Skyrim, they had never burned incense. It just reminded her of how far away she was from home. And from her mother. And her father, who was so far away she would never see him again. She tried focusing on other things, but that feeling of sadness and longing didn't leave her.

A welcome distraction came when the portrait of Aurelia was brought out. It was apperantly done in her lifetime and was only brought out for the festival. That was probably why it looked so different from the others. Merina was up close, so she could see it better than most people.

Two hundred years ago, the thing was probably rather grand, but its glory days were long over. In more than one place, the fabric was frayed. The paint was duller in the left corner. Its silver frame had long since dulled. The one thing that revealed the augustness of the thing was Aurelia herself.

She was in a dark blue silk dress in a traditional cut with wide, draping sleeves and framed with silver embroidery. She had long black hair that was partially held up by a pearl and sapphire encrusted clip. Her long face was her most striking feature. It was beautiful, with full lips in a half smile, high cheekbones, and eyes the same shade as Merina's. Her eyes were her best feature in Merina's opinion. Not because they were the only feature that they shared. Even though it was only a portrait, those eyes still had light in them. They gave off a sense of intelligence, and a bit of coldness. The smile only heightened that impression, looking mysterious and full of secrets. Reveling in the fact that she knew things that you did not and never would. Just like the woman herself did. How she somehow managed to hide basically years of her life and some very important details, Merina still wondered how she had hid all of her money for two hundred years. She was also wondering about how realistic the portrait was. And how old the woman was when it was painted. There was no way a thirty-five year old looked that young.

The ceremony ended with the burning of a portrait of Ocato- apparently people really hated him here- and a speech about the life of Aurelia and how wonderful she was. It was presented by a rather dull orator, the count, unfortunately. Merina almost fell asleep a few times. Avitus told her that everyone did that at least once. Besides, it was late, the speaker was boring, and she had heard the story at least a hundred times. She could basically tell it word for word the way her father did at this point.

Everyone who was old enough, which she wasn't, was awake, however, for the final part of the festival. The drinking part. When Merina was older, she would regret participating in that.

The years passed and Merina and Avitus changed. Merina grew a little taller, but not much. Everyone still thought she was younger than she actually was. That would usually be a complement, but since it was because of her height, she thought of it as more of an insult. She hadn't been an ugly duckling who turned into a swan. Her eyes were had gotten even harder looking and people said that they were intimidating, which was just fine with her. She needed all the help she could get in that regard. Everyone said she didn't smile enough and that she looked a bit cold. Her nose was still a little too big and a bit pointy for her face. She liked to think that she at least looked rather noble. When she pinned her hair up, sometimes she at least looked the part of an empress. If she stood on stilts.

Avitus changed too. He got tall, well at least compared to Merina. Everyone looked tall compared to her. He got, well, more muscled. And his hair grew out. And maybe, just maybe, he wasn't so bad on the eyes these days, but that was something she would never tell him.

Merina and Avitus stayed friends, even though they started doing different things. Avitus was the typical soldier and was always learning new ways to use a sword. Merina still like learning those things too, but she was liking reading up on tactics more and more as she got older. She was always reading about the empire's past leaders and their strategies. They both wanted to join the Legion when they were old enough. A chance for glory and adventure! They could see the world! And simultaneously follow in their fathers' footsteps and step out of their shadows.

But whenever Merina mentioned this desire to Brother Darion, it always into a fight.

"Father Darion just understand that—"

"Understand what? That you are risking you life —and may I remind you, the world!— in some vain attempt for glory!"

At this Merina gave a groan of frustration, "If I just stay here all of my life waiting for some old geezer to die and then say, oh by the way, I'm a girl with no experience but I have the right to lead you, no one will take me seriously! They'll just laugh in my face!"

"They will accept you, you're a—"

"What, I'm a Septim? Something I will never be able to prove? How am I supposed to rule a people I don't know?! The Empire isn't just Cyrodiil and it's certainly not just Kvatch!"

This, in her opinion, was pretty reasonable. But Brother Darion just couldn't accept it. He simply refused to look at her, turning around in the opposite direction. He almost whispered, in the softest, least harsh tone she had ever heard him use in six years she had lived in Kvatch, "I just want to keep you safe."

'That old codger just can't accept that I'm not ten anymore. I'm only sixteen, but I'm not a child!'

But the other part of her mind that perhaps wasn't so angry said traitorous thoughts, 'But you're not an adult either.'

She told that part of her mind where to stick it. Then, when he tried to patronize her on how he knew best once again, she walked out. And slammed the door.

It felt pretty satisfying.

Whenever they fought, she would air her complaints to Avitus. Which was a lot. Hesympathized. He and his father were having the same problem, just for basically the completely opposite reason. His father wanted to bring to the Imperial City. Avitus didn't want to leave. He wanted to stay a year or two before, as he said, "spending every waking moment in my father's presence." Apparently, they were arguing even more than Merina was with her guardian.

At about the end of that year the general got his way. Avitus first said that no matter what, he wasn't going. Then, when he internally accepted it was happening, ranted to Merina, like she ranted to him, about how unfair it was and how his father obviously hated him. Merina didn't agree with that last part. She didn't see the General very often, let alone knew him. But from the few time she had seen him, it was always with his son and the exact opposite of hatred. When she pointed that out, he just sulked. They didn't talk when he sulked. He was acting strange.

In fact, he'd been acting strange for a while. He was always stuttering and blushing. He never did that stuff. In fact, it was always a contest of which of the two was more confident. Or more arrogant, as Brother Darion would have said. It was weird. Could he-? No. Not possible.

To be honest, Merina was conflicted. On one hand, she'd kind of been hoping for this. She had also been blushing, and stuttering, and always sounding like an idiot! Just thinking about him and her, made her entire face flush red and brought a smile to her face. But she wasn't able to say anything. What if he didn't feel the same way? She would ruin their entire friendship. Besides, she would never be able to look him in the face again after a debacle like that. And if he liked her back, and things didn't work out, that would pretty much be the death of their friendship. It would be like stomping on it and throwing it in the trash. Then burning it. Then spitting on the ashes. And besides, why try something new, when what they had was already great?

So the next time they spoke, she didn't tell him. Or the next. Or the next. She talked about dumb stuff like the weather. Or that book, Mixed Unit Tactics, which she must have read a million times by that point. She'd had to hide the book with Avitus because Brother Darion didn't like her reading it anymore. He thought it made her want to join the Legion, which it did. And the idea of her joining the Legion was about as horrible as her going to work for Merhunes Dagon. Possibly worse. He always pursed his lips when he saw her reading it and he'd get into a mood. Either he'd get all grumpy, well grumpier than usual, or he'd get all nostalgic. So she'd hidden the book to give him some peace of mind. She'd complain about stuff like that. Stuff that didn't sound out of the ordinary. Except talking about the weather. That didn't sound like her at all.

The months passed and it was inevitably spring and Avitus had to leave. The night before, he came in her room and shook her awake. It took her a second to even think coherently, it was the middle of the night and she had been asleep, this had better be important. So, obviously, the first thing she said was, "What in Oblivion are you doing here in the middle of the night?! And— wait how did you even get in here?"

He shrugged, "Lock pick," he held it up and she wanted to smack it out of his hand, "Just follow me!"

When her face showed she had no inclination to even think about getting out of bed he added, "Please?"

He smiled when he said that. Damn him.

With that, she got out, grumbling about horrible friends who woke her up in the middle of the night with no reason, and followed. He took her back to the field of tiger lilies.

"You remember how we met, don't you?"

She gave him withering look. Of course she did. Was this all he had woken her up for?

"I wanted to know, well I still want to know what were you doing? You never told me."

Merina stayed quiet. She hadn't told him. It wasn't that she didn't trust him, she trusted him with her life, she'd just never found the right words. It wasn't something that she liked to talk about. Because if she told part of the story, she would have to unravel her carefully constructed web of lies. Like the fact that Brother Darion wasn't her uncle. Or that she wasn't from Whiterun. Or the fact that everything she told about her life was at least partially a lie. It wasn't something she wanted to bring up just before her friend was about to leave. And he was going to the lion's layer. The Imperial City. If word got to the emperor of who she was, she would be dead in five seconds flat. And the Imperial City was home to the great Thalmor embassy of the Empire. If they found out... well she didn't like to think of what they would do. She'd heard the stories.

She stared at the ground for a second longer, and took a deep breath (her usual coping when she was doing something that scared her). Then she took another.

She opened her mouth to speak. Then she closed it. She still didn't have the words to explain. She'd never had to. She took another deep breath, then took the amulet out of her pocket and held it up in the moonlight.

"Do you know what this is?"

He stared in disbelief, his mouth hanging open, eyes as big as saucers, eyebrows raised as far as the could go.

"That— that can't be... it— it was destroyed."

He looked up at her, confusion in his eyes. She explained everything, the entire story pouring out like a roaring river, raging and unstoppable. His eyes got wider and wider as she went along. When she mentioned the part about her father's murder and how she was left in Kvatch for her own safety, he said in almost a whisper, "I'm sorry."

"What for? You didn't do it." she said, waving it off, even as her other hand curled into a fist. She didn't want his pity.

"Do you know where your mother is? I mean, have you heard from her?."

"No." She said flatly, with a bit of finality. She didn't even know if her mother was alive or dead. And she did not like talking about it. Ever.

They didn't talk after that and just sat in comfortable silence. Pretty soon, they fell asleep.

When Avitus left for the Imperial City, they promised to write letters to each other. Originally, they did. It was rather depressing to hear about how exciting his life was, when her's was just the same. The boring same old same old. Her letters were probably duller than the history of socks. Over time, the amount of letters they sent just got smaller and smaller until they weren't writing to each other at all.

So most of the time, she was just training or reading books on tactics or, her new field of interest: magic. She had gotten bored with reading the same books over and over again. So when Brother Darion gave her some books on Restoration magic, she and leapt at the chance. Learning how to heal yourself in a fight was pretty handy. Or how to block things without giving the amulet away.

She'd learned even more from the amulet, but on her own time she was learning things the old priest might not approve of. Like how to use it to destroy something. Brother Darion was of the mind that it should only be used for defense. Merina's philosophy on it was that it was a high grade weapon and she'd be a fool not to at least learn how to use it.

The other thing she did was her "etiquette" lessons. Brother Darion had gotten it into his head that she needed to learn how to be a proper lady. And that if she did, suddenly she wouldn't want to join the army.

Well, he was completely wrong. It only made her want to join the army more. She thought that learning which fork was for salad was the stupidest thing she had ever heard of. But she had to admit that some of it was actually useful, like sewing for suturing a wound or repairing clothes. And knowing how to walk gracefully and look a little taller might be useful later. At least she looked a bit taller. It was hard to look intimidating when everyone literally looked down on her. And knowing the basics of how to be charming couldn't hurt.

Even when Avitus came back, things were awkward. His life had gotten so much more exciting, just like his letters said. And hers was still the same boring day to day stuff. He seemed, well, more cultured than she did. He had been able to meet dignitaries from all types of places. Even if he swore up and down and on all the Divines that he hated those social functions. Merina thought that they didn't sound bad. To make a short story shorter, there was now a distance there wasn't before.

But at least Brother Darion was taking her on more snipe hunts for artifacts. Most of the time, strangely enough, the artifacts were in Skyrim. Which meant long trips through the bitter cold and bad roads where you always had to watch out for bandits or the most vicious wolves. But Merina loved the traveling. She liked seeing the new places and meeting the locals. Even though she hated the freezing weather, two of the cities farthest north were some of the most beautiful she had ever seen. Solitude with its Blue Palace hanging on a cliff and the stone architecture of Windhelm. The city of Winterhold was kind of sad, but she had gotten to go to the College! They had even taught her a few things on magic! They'd had to leave quickly though, which was pretty disappointing. She could have stayed in that library forever.

The most beautiful city was one towards the south in the Reach, Markarth.

Originally built by the Dwemer, it was a city of dark grey stone and bronze built right into the rock. She felt like a hero from the old stories in that ancient city. But while it was beautiful, it was the complete opposite of comfortable. Everything was made of rock. Including the beds. Needless to say, she didn't get much sleep there. Even if the beds were normal, she probably wouldn't have gotten much sleep anyway. The city freaked her out. Which was justified because someone was murdered in the streets right in front of her eyes. The murderer said something like, "For the Forsworn!" What in Oblivion were the Forsworn?! Brother Darion said to just stay quiet. She would have demanded an answer, but the look on his face made her think twice. That night they stayed in the inn. He still wouldn't tell her, even when they were alone. He waited three days, until they had left the city and were halfway back to Whiterun.

The Forsworn were a group of rebels in the Reach that wanted to separate from Skyrim and the Empire. Seventeen years before, at the start of the Great War, they had staged a rebellion and had taken over Markarth. The Empire had no time to deal either them until the end of the war. Then Ulfric Stormcloak was sent and crushed them.

"But there still around, aren't they?"

"Yes, but no where near their full strength. Now they hold out in the hills and kill anyone who goes near. Take my advice, they might not be what they once were, but those barbarians are dangerous. Stay as far away from them as you can."

They continued traveling around. Each time they went to a city, she hoped they'd find her mother, but they never did. By the time they returned to Cyrodiil, Merina was eighteen and they had more artifacts of saints and heroes than they could want. They had at one point tried to find Auri-El's bow, but they were as successful with that as Merina was at finding her mother.

Things were still as awkward with her old friend. They continued to go after their own interests and didn't even try to mend the bridge anymore. Merina was upset about it, but that distance had been coming for years. She wouldn't change a thing of what their friendship used to be, but they were different people now. They would say hello if they saw each other, which wasn't often, and maybe smile a little, but nothing more. Besides, he was in the Imperial City most of the time and she was still here. Tending to the temple, holding the candles during ceremonies, handing out food to the poor, all things she did most of the time. She still thought was boring, but she didn't realize how much she was going it all. She didn't realize how good she had it until she lost it.

She lost it all about three months before she was twenty-one, on a night that until then, seemed perfectly normal.

I don't think this chapter is my best, but I can't make it any better and it needs to be in there. So I'm also putting up chapter three, which is, at least in my opinion, much better. The reason I gave the amulet powers is because it has the power of a god. Why can it just light the dragon fires? Also, if Martin Septim had to destroy it to become the avatar of Akatosh, then it can channel his power. I own nothing and a big thank you to my beta!


	3. Chapter 3

_"The day Merina left Kvatch was the day the world changed. Although no one knew it at the time, it was the death of one era and the birth of another. Appropriately, she called this, rather dramatically, the crossroads of her destiny"  
>~ Life of Empress Kintrya III volume one, by Chaes Belarnion<br>_  
>She was in the Jerall Mountains, in the dress she had worn as child. The snow had barely begun to fall. Autumn must have just started. She turned her head right and saw her old home, still standing sturdily against the wind, their old mare in the stable surrounded by hay. The door opened and her parents walked out, blinding smiles on their faces. That was how she knew it was a dream. But she didn't want it to be. She desperately wanted it to be real. They called out to her, and she ran to them. But it was like she was trying to run through water. She had almost gotten to them, and was reaching out, when she was shaken awake.<p>

Brother Darion was standing in front of her, his face grim. She would have complained about being woken up, but she was using all of what little energy she had to keep herself from crying. She was at least able to push out three slurred words, "What's going on?"

But his expression told her everything. There was only one thing that could scare him this much. All he said was, "They're coming."

The day had finally come. She knew that it was going to happen. Secrets had a way of getting out in the open. She didn't know how, or how much they knew. All she knew was that her cover was blown and she had to get away from this place. Fast. She threw herself out of bed and quickly put on a long dull grey dress, which had a pocket for the amulet, over some thin dark brown pants. She might have to blend in, but she wanted to be able to move. She then put a brown belt on and stuck her small, old dagger in it. She would not flee from the Thalmor. Over all of that, she put on a thick grey cloak with a hood. Finally, she put on thick leather boots. Neither were fashionable, but they were warm. She would need that where she was going.

Skyrim was her best chance. It was a month's journey by horse if you were on the road. She wasn't going to be, so it would take even longer. But it was too dangerous to stay in Cyrodiil. She knew Skyrim, and she had a chance of partially blending in. Talos worship was still pretty strong there, she could draw some support from that. The country was wild and huge. She could go into the boonies and hide for as long as she needed to without too much effort. And, even though she had lived in Kvatch for almost eleven years, she still partially thought of Skyrim as home. She had heard of some political unrest, but that wouldn't be too much of a problem. Maybe she could even use it to her advantage. Either way, she didn't think it would be that bad.

As she was thinking this, she was subconsciously putting the amulet around her neck. As soon as she did that, Brother Darion was half leading, half pulling her put the door. She took one more look around her, a feeling in the pit of her stomach telling her this was the last time she would get a chance to. They sped on out the doors, trying not to make a sound. It was a full moon, which wasn't going to do wonders for her stealth capabilities. She hoped there weren't werewolves, even though she hadn't believed in the stories since they were told to her as a little girl to make her be good.

Brother Darion led a sleek, grey spotted stallion from the stables. Merina remembered him. The horse had been given to the temple as a gift when she was eleven. He was only just old enough to ride at that point, and while he was fast and strong, he was also wild and ornery. This just made Merina want to ride him more. She gave him apples, and sugar cubes if Brother Darion gave her a little extra money, if he didn't try to bite or kick her. After doing this for a month or so she had carefully saddled him up, almost getting hit a few times. Then she threw herself on top of the horse and proceeded to ride him. Or, if she was honest, attempted to ride him. He kind of got out of control and she froze up in terror. That didn't stop her from trying again. And again. And again. After two months of hard work (and many bruises), she finally was able to do it. When she, rather smugly, reported her success, Brother Darion said she was going to be the death of him.

The memory made her smile briefly. She took one final look at Brother Darion. He seemed near tears and like he was trying to say something, but didn't know how. Finally, he

settled on, "Good— Good luck out there."

Merina shocked him by pulling him into a tight hug. It took him a second, but he slowly returned the favor. Then, he pulled away, and put his hands on her shoulders, as if trying to get it over with, but not entirely able to let go. "There's a path you can take through the mountains. It's the only safe way into Skyrim."

She raised an eyebrow. "How did you know that was where I was going?"  
>He didn't answer and simply smiled a bittersweet smile. "You should go now."<br>She gave him one, last sad smile. "Thank you. For everything."

With that, she pulled up the hood of her cloak and rode into the night, forcing herself not to look back, because if she took one more look, she wasn't going to be able to make herself leave. Her eyes had already defied her by watering up. If she took even a small glance back, they were going to spill over. She had a horrible feeling that she was never going to come back. That something was over and that she had lost it forever. She took a deep breath to settle herself.

She kept the horse going, practically flying across the plains. She had stayed off the road, but was close enough that she could still see it. She would have been farther off, if there were any trees to hide her. However, there weren't, so what was the point?

She rode on, well into the morning, until she found a cave to sleep in. Luckily, there was nothing unsavory down there that she would have to deal with, like a bear, or worse, vampires. She slept for most of that day, and only came out to eat. There was a river right by the cave, so she drank some of the water, and after multiple failures, caught a fish on her dagger. She was an idiot for forgetting food. But it was too late to go back for food, the Thalmor would be there by now and would soon begin chasing her. It was too dangerous to go to a city. For one, she had no money with her. If she tried stealing, she would probably get caught. If she got caught, she went to jail. Going to jail meant staying in one place for too long and gave the Thalmor a better chance of finding her. Going into a city was out of the question. So she sighed, more angry with herself than anything else. She used a bit of magic to start a fire, and almost roasted the area around the little site she had hastily constructed. Sending out a plume of flames from her hand wasn't the safest way to light a fire, but it was the fastest. And right now, her head start was the only advantage she had over the Thalmor. She wanted to keep it.

She quickly cooked her small fish, and was thanking the Divines for the few cooking lessons that she had gotten. She managed not to burn it, and the thing was probably edible so she gave herself a pat on the back for that. She gobbled the it up, she was starving, and was then back on the horse.

For the next week or so, she rode constantly, all night and for most of the day, and was barely sleeping. But the moons were waning, and there was less light, so she began to be sleeping more in the night and traveling during the day. While it would be easier to see her, she couldn't tell what direction she was going at night. She was going to get lost and start going in circles. So she traveled mostly by day.

When she was near Bruma, with its constant snow, she knew it was time to go on foot. The weather was getting too cold. Her horse was built for the temperate weather of Cyrodiil. If she wanted to use a horse to get across the Jeralls, with their icy wind and frigid weather, she would need a slower but sturdier one from Skyrim. Or Bruma. But she didn't want to steal. So she simply left her horse at the stables right outside Bruma, and hoped that they would take good care of him. Then she took one look at a map she had jammed into a satchel on her belt. She was going to have to go North East if she wanted to use the Pale Pass. She took one look at the high, treacherous peaks in the distance, and decided that she did.

So she began trudging back through snow banks and over hills that felt more like small mountains. More than once, she was attacked by wolves, but she was able to deal with them. She did have some cuts on her legs and her left arm, though, and her dress was now cut up and ragged at the bottom. The snow was constantly falling, she was freezing, and her hurt leg was starting to be a real problem. But she kept going, as if that was a way to force her leg to shut up and heal.

Obviously, it wasn't. What made it even worse was the fact that the Pale Pass was the opposite of a flat plane that went in a straight line. Instead, it was a small, narrow pass full of treacherous cliffs with roads that zigzagged up and down said cliffs, with no end in sight. Merina almost fell off one of those cliffs. That was when she realized she had to stop and let her leg heal.

It took one agonizingly long week, but it would have taken longer if she hadn't known healing magic, another thing to thank Brother Darion for. The amulet was pretty helpful in speeding the process up too. As soon as she could, she was walking again.

By her estimate, she was now in the beginning of Last Seed. That was slightly worrying. She was going to need to find some place to stay in winter or she was going to freeze to death. Literally.

She pushed those thoughts out her mind. She could think about that later, but right now, she just needed to get into Skyrim. So, she kept putting one foot in front of the other,even when the muscles in her legs were screaming, the cold and the wind were cutting into her bones, and all she wanted to do was turn back. Then she reached the mountain.

When she had started going through the Pale Pass, there had been a mountain she had to cross. However, she didn't have to go all the way over it, it was a lot warmer, and she wasn't as tired. The only good thing about seeing this mountain was the fact that it showed that she had almost gotten to Skyrim. After she crossed this mountain, she could take the path all the way to a small town called Helgen.

If she thought crossing the rest of the Pale Pass was bad, it paled (no pun intended) in comparison to hiking up this mountain. For one, there wasn't much up there to eat. Every time she saw the occasional goat, she was stabbing it like a mad woman. She had lost at least five pounds, which was bad. For one, she had already lost quite a bit of weight simply from all the walking she had done. The other bad part was that she had always been a little too thin. After this was all over, she was going to eat as much as she could. A small positive was that she had been gaining some more muscle and she was probably ready for anything at this point. It couldn't get worse.

She was wrong. She was finally coming down the mountain, feeling like she was getting just the littlest bit warmer with every step she took. All the feelings of hunger and fatigue gradually disappeared as grass got closer and closer. Then, as she was minding her own business, she walked into the worst situation she could have. It wasn't a frost troll. It wasn't a pack of wolves. It wasn't even a saber cat or bear. She could have taken those (the bear and the saber cat would have given her a bit more trouble, and she would most definitely be worried, but she could have done it).

No, this was something entirely different. Because as it turned out, the political situation in Skyrim was a bit more dire than she had originally thought. Instead of there simply being unrest, it was more like outright civil war. And Merina just happened to walk right into a battle.

She couldn't really tell what was happening, she was just trying to run. She pushed through soldiers, both Imperial and... well, whoever those people in blue were. But in no time at all, the flat side of a sword hit her on the head, and everything went black.

She dreamed of towers and wheels. And of dragons. Someone with many voices, both male and female all speaking together, creating a reverberating feeling. As the voices spoke, she saw things. Images that swirled around, moving with the voices.

"When misrule takes its place at the eight corners of the world"  
>Here she saw a middle aged man, falling in a portal.<br>"When the Brass Tower walks and Time is reshaped."  
>She saw a huge, monstrous thing made of brass. Was that— sweet Akatosh, could that be Numidium?!<br>"When the thrice-blessed fail and the Red Tower trembles."  
>A huge volcano- probably Red Mountain erupted and she heard terrified screams in the background.<br>"When the Dragonborn Ruler loses his throne,"

A man was there, holding the Amulet of Kings, standing in a temple, his eyes closed, his face set into a determined expression. He threw the amulet on the ground, and a white glow enveloped the area around it, throwing everything in its path at least ten feet back. When the light dimmed, the man was gone, replaced by a huge, golden dragon.

"And the White Tower falls."

She saw the Imperial City on fire, red flames eerily contrasting against the gleaming white

buildings, and heard more terrible screams.

"When the Snow Tower lies sundered, kingless, bleeding,"

She saw a man, lying face down on the floor, with blood seeping out from  
>under him, his hand out stretched, and his crown lying off of him.<p>

"The World-Eater wakes."

With this, she saw only darkness, but heard the beating of wings against the wind. The voices said nothing more and the last thing she saw was an immense, ever turning wheel.

When she came to, she was in a cart with three men and her hands were bound. She was having a bit of a hard time seeing what they looked like, because her vision was a little blurry. The man across from her was blond. And in blue. Well, now she knew who won the battle.  
>She just looked around until her sight got better. There were a lot of trees, a lot of snow, and they were right near the mountains. So she wasn't out for too long. Probably only a couple hours at most. A couple seconds later, the man in front of her noticed her.<p>

"Hey you, you're finally awake. You were trying to cross the border, right? Walked right into that Imperial ambush same as us — and that thief over there." The blond haired one had an accent that she heard a lot in the times she'd been in Skyrim.

She turned her head to the right, she was right in the front of the cart, and saw the two other men. One had dark hair and fair skin. The other man was stockier, had dark blond hair, and was wearing clothes much finer than anyone else. Strangely enough, he had a gag over his mouth, unlike the other two. She wondered why, but thought she would sound like an idiot if she did. So she stayed quiet.

The dark haired one snarled, "Damn you Stormcloaks. Skyrim was fine until you came along. Empire was nice and lazy. If they hadn't been looking for you, I could have stolen that horse and been halfway to Hammerfell."

Then he turned to her, "You there, you and me, we shouldn't be here. It's these Stormcloaks the Empire wants."

The blond man spoke again, "We're all brothers and sisters in binds now, thief."

The soldier driving their cart was clearly getting annoyed with their conversation as he said, "Shut up back there!"

The dark haired man, she still knew none of their names, decided to ignore this, by asking the same thing that Merina had been wondering. Gesturing to the gagged man he said, "What's up

with him?"

This was something that clearly upset the non gagged blond. "Watch your tongue! You're speaking to Ulfric Stormcloak, the true High King."

Ulfric Stormcloak? Wait a minute, if this guy was Ulfric Stormcloak, and the rebels were called Stormcloaks then... then this couldn't well. But that still didn't explain the gag.

The dark haired man voiced her thought and at the same time proved her suspicions true as he said in a weak voice, "Ulfric Stormcloak? The Jarl of Windhelm?" His voice got stronger as the said, "You're the leader of the rebellion. But if they've captured you... oh gods where are they taking us?"

Merina thought that he was rightly concerned and she even more scared when the non gagged blond said, "I don't know where we're going, but Sovngarde awaits." Merina froze at the word Sovngarde. She might have been a Nord, but her grandmother on her father's side was. Her father had taught her all about the Nord beliefs. Sovngarde and its Hall of Valor. If they were talking about it, then they were going to die. She was going to die! Her breathing started increasing rapidly. She couldn't die, not now. She was only twenty! She hadn't done anything! She wasn't a rebel! She couldn't die!

The dark haired man once again voiced her thoughts, "No, this can't be happening! This isn't happening!"

The non gagged man tried to calm him down, speaking in an almost soothing voice, "Hey, what village are you from, horse thief?"  
>"Why do you care?"<br>"A Nord's last thoughts should be of home."  
>"Rorikstead. I'm— I'm from Rorikstead."<p>

Merina tried to think of home, so she thought of two places. The first was that little cabin in the Jeralls with her parents. She couldn't remember much from that time, but she could remember love, and feeling safe. That seemed almost ironic now. Safe. She was never safe.

She also thought of Kvatch, which she could remember. Memories of times with Avitus, of the festivals, of reading her favorite books late into the night until she was caught, eating sweet rolls on her birthday until she felt sick, of riding horses farther and farther away, which made Brother Darion to say that she that she was causing him to go grey. Dreaming of traveling to all the corners of the world. She thought of just Kvatch itself with its open, marble buildings and silver gates. She didn't feel any better. She just missed it all more. She was so stupid! She was a stupid girl who should have appreciated what she had when she had it. Now she was going to die and she would never see any of it again!

She tried focusing on other things. Looking out in front, and trying not to look at the soldiers or the town that was coming closer and closer. The cart had gone down the last of the road and they just as they were about to through wooden gates into a small town, she heard one of the soldiers call out, "General Tullius, sir, the headsman is waiting."

Oh gods, General Tullius. Her salvation was here! All she needed to do was point herself out, she was his son's childhood friend, she was from Kvatch, she wasn't a Stormcloak, and she didn't need to be executed! But it was like her mouth was sewn shut, she could say a word. Of all the times to be frozen by fear, this the worst!

"Good, let's get this over with."

Oh yes, that was the general. She could never forget that gruff voice. They quickly went through the gates, and though the town.

"This is Helgen. I used to be sweet on a girl here. Wonder if Vilod still makes mead with juniper berries mixed in. Funny, when I was a boy, Imperial walls and towers used to make me feel so safe."

Nobody responded. What could they have said? She heard a man tell a little boy —his son?— to come inside. The little boy asked why because he, "wanted to see the soldiers."  
>'No kid, no you really don't,' she thought.<br>The cart soon drove up to a wall and stopped.  
>"Why are we stopping?"<br>"Why do you think? End of the line." He stood up, "Let's go. Shouldn't keep the gods waiting for us."

Merina thought he was taking this insanely well. Her mind was frozen in a state of "This isn't happening! This isn't happening!" over and over. She got up mechanically with the others. The dark haired man made one last plea for salvation, by saying in a desperate tone, "Wait, we're not rebels! You can't do this!"

She vaguely noticed that he included her in his statement too. That was kind of him. She would have to return the favor, if she ever got the chance. She tried not to think of fact that she wasn't going to.

"Face your death with some courage, thief."  
>That blond man was taking this too well.<br>The dark haired man tried again, "You've got to tell them, we weren't with you! This is a mistake!"  
>The captain, a woman in steel armor with red accents, shouted, "Step towards the block when we call your name. One at a time!"<br>The blond man grumbled, "Empire loves their damned lists."

It was true, but Merina didn't think that was a bad thing. It kept order. You knew what you had, when you had it, and how much it was. You could keep track of things.

The man, who was right next to the captain, holding the list, began to call out names. He called Ulfric Stormcloak first, rather obviously. He was the most important prisoner after all. She did realize in the back of her mind that she could try and show them the Amulet of Kings, and tell them why it was such a bad idea to lop off her head. But the rest of her mind was in a state of panic and wasn't exactly listening to reason. She had never been good in times of fear.

The Jarl began walking away, keeping his dignity and not even looking the least bit afraid, and the blond man said that it was an honor. Those two men, him and other blond, were completely insane. That was the only reasonable explanation Merina had for them not being even a little afraid. Or maybe they were just better at not showing, she supposed. Either way, she would never know.

The reddish brown haired list man called out the next name, "Ralof of Riverwood."  
>So that was the blond man's name. He walked toward, with the same amount of dignity as his leader. Merina hoped she would be able to do the same. She didn't want to look like a blithering idiot before she died.<p>

But when the man called the next name, "Lokir of Rorikstead," the brown haired man's name, there was a different reaction. First, the man restated the fact that he wasn't a rebel, and that they shouldn't kill him. Then he began to run. "You're not going to kill me!"

The captain shouted to the archers, and within a few seconds the man's -Lokir's- escape attempt was over, with him face down in the dirt. "Anyone else feel like running?" Said the captain, in a harsh and threatening tone. Now, it seemed like the only thing Merina could do was attempt to go to her death with dignity.

The red haired man turned to look at her and said, "Wait, you there, step forward. Who are you?"

Merina didn't give them her real name. It had been so long since she had dared utter her real, full name, she never mentioned her real last name in Kvatch and when she was traveling she always used a fake. A lie just instantly came out without her permission.

"Cassia Ultor." She gave a flamboyant gesture at the end. If she was going to lie, then she was going to go all out. It wasn't like they'd believe the truth anyway. They would either think she was a crackpot or that she was someone who got duped with an imitation necklace and false promises of destiny.

"You're a long way from the Imperial City. What are you doing in Skyrim?"  
>She didn't say anything, because she knew her story would either be laughed at, or she would be turned over to the Thalmor.<p>

He took one more look at his list, puzzled, and then turned to the captain. "Captain, what should we do? She's not on the list."

Merina was stunned for a second. She was going to live. She was going to  
>live! But the captain's response promptly squashed that hope. "Forget the list. She<br>goes to the block."

"By your orders, Captain." Then he faced her again, not quite able to look in her eyes, "I'm sorry. We'll make sure your remains are returned to the Imperial City. Follow the captain, prisoner."

I'm sorry. I'm sorry?! She was getting sent to her death, even when they knew she wasn't a rebel, and all he could say was "I'm sorry"?! Screw his apologies! He couldn't even look her in the eye as he sentenced her to death! Her anger at the reddish haired man, however, was nothing compared to her fury directed at the captain. At least the man had protested it, this was the one sending her to the block without a care in the world! Who in the world promoted this woman to any position of prominence?! If she had ever got the chance to be empress, which was admittedly practically impossible by this point, this was going to stop. She could almost understand why the Stormcloaks were rebelling! Almost.

She made herself look as tall as she could, and walked to the others, with all the dignity she could muster. Which was a lot, from what she had been told. An inability to process the situation had been clouding her mind before, now pure rage was taking its place. If she couldn't live to kick ass and take names, then by Akatosh, she was going to die well.

Ulfric Stormcloak and General Tullius seemed to be having a bit a face off. "Ulfric Stormcloak, Jarl of Windhelm. Some here in Helgen call you a hero. But a hero doesn't use a power like the voice to murder his king and usurp his throne."

Ulfric attempted to protest, but those protests were muffled by the gag. Merina was completely confused. What in Oblivion was going on in Skyrim? And why hadn't she known about it? She had prided herself on being one of the most well-informed people in Kvatch. This just kind of proved that she was nothing more than a country bumpkin. For the thousandth time, she wished she had just joined the Legion. She could have done it multiple times. But each time she backed out. She couldn't leave the old man on his own. Brother Darion was getting older and his health was starting to fail. He was at least sixty by the time she fifteen, she had always thought it impolite to ask him his real age. It would've been cruel to just run off. She didn't like thought of him dying, but he was getting old. There been a couple of close calls. Besides, she was still very young. She could join when she was a bit older and more experienced. She couldn't go and break Brother Darion's heart like that. She would either get his permission or not go at all.

General Tullius spoke again, "You started this war and plunged Skyrim into chaos and now the Empire is going to put you down and restore the peace."

There was strange sound, she couldn't tell what direction it was from. Every one looked up, looking for its source, as confused she was. The reddish haired man, Merina wished wore name tags, asked what everyone must have been thinking, "What was that?"

No one really had answer for that. Merina didn't have much experience outside of what lived near Kvatch, but she had never even heard of something that sounded like that.

"It's nothing, carry on."

Merina didn't think that it was nothing, but if he hadn't noticed her by now, he wasn't going to. He always had a problem remembering who she was, even when she was his son's best friend for six years. Besides, she was more than a bit miffed about that little being sent to her death thing. She kind of wanted him to feel that "Oh gods, I just killed the childhood friend of my only son! What have I done?" It was dumb, it was the stupidest, most vain bit of prideful idiocy she had ever experienced and even just a few minutes later, she be wondering how she had ever been that stupid. Twenty years later she would still be wondering how she'd ever been that stupid! But Merina was running on pure anger, and it was clouding her judgement, and her ability to think straight. This anger was pushing away all feelings but fear— no, not of fear, of absolute, knee weakening, vomit inducing, faint causing, terror. And her pride demanded that she not give into those feelings. She was a Septim, a descendent of emperors and emperesses, of a man who became a god. She would not die in terror. She die befitting her ancestry. She might die being of the biggest failures of the family, but at least she could that she was better than Potema. Not that that was saying much.

The captain answered the general, not with what Merina thought might have been sensible, which was investigating what in Oblivion that noise was, but by agreeing. Ah well, the chain of command, she supposed. That became the next thing on her list of what to change if the gods saved her and she became Empress. Number three, you are allowed to question your superior if they are making a dumb decision. Not that they have to follow your advice.

The captain gave an order to the priest that was standing off to the left of the headsman to give Merina and the others doomed to death their last rites.  
>"As we commend you souls to Aetherius, blessings of the eight divines upon you—"<br>'The nine," Merina thought, 'No matter what those Thalmor pigs say, it's the nine."  
>The man walking to the block interrupted her, "For the love of Talos, shut up and let's get this over with."<p>

Merina thought she might have been in love with that man for a minute. The priest was not as amused. In an annoyed tone she said, "As you wish."  
>The man stood in front of the block, not even turning his head the slightest bit to look at anything else. "Come on, I haven't got all morning."<p>

Merina was most definitely in love. But in all seriousness, she thought he was very brave. She hoped she could be as brave.

The captain used her hand to push him into a kneeling position. Then, she put her boot on her back and pushed his head onto the block. As she did this, the man got the last laugh, "My ancestors are smiling at me, Imperials. Can you say the same?"

With that, headsman, dressed in almost all black save for white fur to block the cold, raised his ax. It fell on the man's head with a sickening slicing sound. The head fell into a basket waiting perfectly placed in front of the block and the captain kicked his body away.

The Stormcloaks began to shout things. One shouted, "You Imperial bastards!" Another said only one word, "Justice!"

The reddish haired man was just staring at the head. She wondered if he had known him. Ralof, who she was standing next to him, said, "As fearless in death, as he was in life."

Merina wanted to ask what his name was, but the captain barked out her next order before she could.

"Next, the renegade from Cyrodiil."  
>That noise came again, this time much louder, reverberating against the edges<br>of the mountains. Merina was really wondering, and was slightly worried about, what that could be. Everyone, once again, looked for the source. Once again, they didn't see anything.  
>"There it is again, did you hear that?" It was the reddish haired man again.<p>

While she thought it was a little obvious that everyone could hear it, she was glad that somebody was at least the slightest bit concerned about it. He seemed like the only sane man left.

When the captain spoke again, her tone was threatening, "I said, next  
>prisoner."<p>

The man turned to her and said, "To the block, prisoner, nice and easy." She took a deep breath, and instinctively put her hand in her pocket, her palm closing on the amulet which still miraculously inside. For some reason, even though she was too scared to be calm enough to use it, it was a comfort. Taking a final deep, she began walking.

The captain did the same thing she did with the other man, and soon enough, Merina's head was lying sideways on the block. She could feel the cold, hard wood pushing uncomfortably against her right cheek. She took a shaky breath in an unsuccessful attempt to steady herself. She remembered what Ralof said. End of the line. Would Sovngarde await for her? She hadn't done anything worth getting herself into the Hall of Valor. She hadn't fought until her last breath on field of battle. She wasn't going to die with honor, mourned by many. She going to die here, in a strange town where no one knew her. She would be forgotten, having barely crossed anyone's mind. Would Brother Darion find her body, even though she had used a fake name? Part her hoped he would, so that he would not live in false security and he could gain closure. It was horrible, not knowing if someone you loved was alive or dead. The other part hoped he would never find out, so that he could die happy, thinking that she was alive and as happy as he was.

She was breathing rapid, ragged breaths, terrified, but not wanting to show it. This was it. She tried to not think about it, but she couldn't even force herself to close her eyes so that she at least wouldn't see the ax coming. The headsman was raising his ax— what the hell in Oblivion was that?!

Something was flying! Something huge and black with wings and she had a feeling of what it was but she didn't want to admit it. It landed on the tower right in front of her, its wings so huge that they curved down the half of the tower. It let out a huge cry that knocked everyone down and made fire start to rain from the sky.

For a few seconds, Merina was frozen in terror, just staring at the dragon. Then Ralof brought her back to reality by saying, "Get up! Come on, the gods won't give us another chance. This way!"

They ran into another tower, obviously not the one the dragon was standing on, and tried to process what just happened. That was a dragon. She knew what that meant. And she knew what she was going to have to do. What she didn't was how in Oblivion she was going have a chance of doing. No one had seen a dragon in... well, basically forever, they were practically lost to the written record of history. Until now, Merina had kind of thought that they were just a legend. Well, this proved her horribly wrong.

"Jarl Ulfric, what is that thing? Could the legends be true?"

Ulfric Stormcloak had taken off his gag, and said in a deep baritone, "Legends don't burn down villages."

Another Stormcloak reminded them of the urgency of the situation, saying, "We need to move, now!" Ralof once again knew where to go, "Up through the tower. Let's go!"

Merina ran up the stairs, not really registering if anyone followed. Just as she got to a wider step that had someone laying in pain on it, the dragon's head came threw the wall and began blasting fire! Merina avoided getting hit by said flames with fast steps back down a few stairs, pushing herself against the wall, hoping that it hadn't seen her. The thing apparently didn't, and flew away.

Going up any further was now impossible, as rubble blocked the way. Merina went right in front of the hole in the wall, knowing what she had to do, but being to scared to do it. She was going to have to jump down into the building below. Sounded simple enough, until you realized of building was on fire. Merina didn't want to burn to death.

"See the inn on the other side? Jump through the roof and keep going. Go! We'll follow when we can!"

She went forward, stepped up onto the part of the wall that was still there, not even having to lean down a little, the dragon had made it so big. She took a deep breath in and shakily let it out. Then, she jumped.

Miraculously she managed to fall on the part that wasn't on fire. The collision had hurt, but she wasn't on fire, and at the moment, that was a priority. Thank the gods for small blessings. She ran through to the other side and saw the stairs were on fire. Great. Luckily, right in front of her, there was a hole in the floor. She jumped through it and ran out, only to once again encounter the dragon.

The first thing she noticed after the dragon was that most of the town was destroyed. Part of what probably used to be a house was still standing, but it was charitable to even call it a house. The correct word was wall. A man was hiding behind it. Then she saw that the reddish man was standing just beyond the wall.

The reddish haired man was calling out to a little boy, who was right in the dragon's line of sight. And because he wasn't standing behind the wooden wooden wall, like she and the other man were, that put him in the dragon's line of sight too. The boy was finally able to snap out of his fear and ran to where the other man was. The reddish haired man shouted out to a third man, who Merina couldn't see. The dragon however, must have killed him because the reddish haired man swore. He seemed to realize that the dragon was about to try and kill them too because he immediately shouted, "Gods, everyone get back!"

They all did just that, and it was good that they did because the dragon started spewing fire at them. The man turned to her, realizing that she was there. "Still alive, prisoner? Stick close to me if you want to stay that way." Then turned to the other man, "Gunjar, take care of the boy. I have to find General Tullius and join the defense."

The man— Gunjar— agreed, "Gods guide you, Hadvar."

Hadvar, that was the man's name. She was glad she could call something besides the reddish haired man. It was a bit of a mouth full. He went off running and she followed. When they reached an inn, only half of which was still standing and not on fire yet, the dragon flew over head.  
>"Stay close to the wall!"<br>"Gladly."

She stayed as if stuck to the wall, breathing as quietly as she could. The dragon literally landed right in front of her, breathed fire at people, and then flew back up. This would a horrible, but reasonable time to freak out. Usually, she would have. But today, it seemed like bravery, even if it was idiotic bravery, was coursing through her veins instead of blood. She ran right under the monster after Hadvar. They ran right through a completely destroyed house, which only had the bottoms of the walls and a bit of the beginning of the roof still standing.

They ran out to find the remain soldiers grouped together. There were bodies of townspeople everywhere, and scent of charred flesh made her sick. Gods, what had it been like to live under the dragons? She couldn't even to begin to think of doing it herself.

General Tullius called out, "Hadvar! Into the keep, soldier we're leaving!"

They kept running, Merina had no idea where the keep was, and she was praying that the dragon didn't swoop down and gobble her up or something equally horrible. Just as they reached the largest, and most still standing building she'd seen yet, Ralof appeared once again.

"Ralof, you damned traitor! Out of my way!"

Obviously there was some bad blood between the two. She wondered how they knew each other. From the same town, maybe?

"We're escaping, Hadvar. You're not stopping us this time!"

She supposed he was referring to the other Stormcloaks in that statement, even if they weren't there. She wondered why everyone was going to the keep if they all planned on killing each other, which with the way those two were acting seemed likely. The only purpose of going into the keep was trying to weather the storm, which in this case, that was partially literal as flames kept spurting from the dark clouds the dragon had spurted up. Unless there was some kind of secret exit through the keep.

"Fine. I hope that dragon takes you all to Sovngarde!"

Just as he was saying that, the dragon flew right over head, and thankfully ignored them. Either way, she wanted to get out of open and away from that dragon. It seemed like Hadvar was of a like mind, as he ran into the keep. Merina followed, hot on his heels.

By the time they had gotten in, they were both gasping for breath. Not because they were tired, even though they had practically ran from one side of the small town to another, but from attempts to try and process what was going on now that they could think beyond the word run.

Hadvar was first to speak, "Looks like we're the only ones who made it. Was that really a dragon? The bringers of the end times?"

For a second she wanted to snap at him, of course that was a dragon! Wings, mean, bad tempered, killing machine! Everything her mother had taught her about dragons! How her mother knew anything on the subject of their personalities was beyond her, as dragons had been gone since before anyone, except maybe some of the older elves, had even been born, let alone been able to remember seeing one. And the stuff that people did know was from old songs and legends, all kept alive in the oral tradition for thousands of years. There was no way that it had survived that long without going through at the very least a few changes. For all they knew, dragons could be four hundred feet tall, with pink horns, and silver wings, and no one would be any the wiser.

Besides, she couldn't blame him for not wanting to believe that it was a dragon. She didn't want the world the end anyone more than most rational, sane people. She didn't even want to think about it. She had never liked thinking about it, so she hadn't read up on it, and now she cursed herself for it! She was doing that a lot recently.

She didn't want to start thinking about what that meant for her. She remembered the dream she had had while unconscious. She had been dreaming of a centuries old prophecy, one that many seers had seen, one being her ancestor, Aurelia. More and more seers, (even though there weren't many of them), even those with smallest amount of gift had been seeing this prophecy with alarming frequency. The dream had ended before it had been finished, but there was only one line left, and she knew what it was.

_And the wheel turns upon the last Dragonborn. _

She didn't want to think about what that meant, because the only possibilities included a lot of death. In at least two situations, her own, which were without children and the last of her line, which had lasted for seven hundred years. She wanted to hope that the last part was metaphorical, but she knew that was idealistic at best. Dumb, which it probably was, at worst.

So she shrugged her shoulders, in a wordless attempt to say, "I guess so." He noticed that she didn't want to talk about it, and he didn't seem to want to either, as he quickly changed the subject. "We need to keep moving. Come here, let me see if I can get those bindings off."

How had she forgotten that her hands were bound?! She supposed that she was focused on other things, but still! That was a pretty important detail to just slip her mind! She stepped closer, like he asked, he took out a dagger, and neatly cut her bindings off. That was good, she had been a little worried that he was going to accidentally cut into her with that thing.

"There should be some armor and a weapon in one of those chests, you should take it."

She raised an eyebrow, surprised that he was so quick to trust her not to stab him in the back. But Akatosh alone knew what they were going to be facing. It was pragmatic to be at least able to defend herself. So she went to one of the chests and, luckily, it had light leather armor, boots, and gauntlets that she favored in it. She grabbed the smallest size of each. When she went to put it on, Hadvar turned away.

'How noble,' she thought dryly.  
>When she had it all on, no matter how much she tightened the straps, the armor still wouldn't fit. It was a little to long. There was added problem of that wasn't a tiny waisted woman. She wasn't fat, but she wasn't tiny in that regard either. It always suprised people when she wore short sleeves. Because then they saw that she was pure muscle. She had worked for three years on a farm to earn money (she hardly planned to travel the world without a Septim to her name) and it had made her bulk up. It kind of contrasted with the small, dainty little lady everyone seemed to think she was. It was true, she was small. It was true, that after years of training, she could walk as gracefully as any highborn lady. But it was also true, in a way that seemed a paradox to anyone who didn't know her, that she was as strong as anyone twice her size, man or woman. The point was, she could either tighten it to the point where she was gasping for breath, but it was the right length for her to move comfortably in. Or she could be able to breathe, but her movements would be clunky. Her fighting depended on split second movements and being able to outlast her opponents. No matter which way she went, this was going to be a huge hindrance. She chose clunky movement. She had no idea when she be required to run for a long time, and when there were dragons all you wanted to do was run. She considered herself good enough of a swords woman, and mage for that matter, to be able to get around the problem of moving a bit slower. Besides, she was sure she would get used to it during their escape. As soon as they got to civilization, she would fix it. She knew the basics of smithing from watching someone in Kvatch do it. He had been so happy to hear that someone was interested in learning, as his own children weren't, that he had taught it to her for free.<p>

Hadvar pulled the chain right next to a gate and it opened up to reveal a hall that led to another gate. Just as she was about to pull another chain to open this new gate, she heard some people on the other side talking.

"Hear that? Stormcloaks. Maybe we can reason with them."

Her respect for that man grew three times larger when she heard him say that. He was willing to work with the enemy, people he was fighting a war against, because there was something worse that they all needed to escape from. Enemy of my enemy is my friend and all that. It was pretty logical. But a lot of people weren't logical when came to hatred, anger, and grudges, of which there was plenty of, seeing as a civil war was going on. She was going to have to ask what it was about. She hoped it wasn't something stupid.

She pulled the chain and let Hadvar go in first. She had fought dragur and bandits, and Avitus when they were training, but she'd never gone against someone who's skills had been forged in the fires of war and actively wanted to kill her.

One of the Stormcloaks, there were two, shouted, "You won't take us alive!" Hadvar tried to explain, "Hold on, we only want to—"

It was to no avail, as he was speaking, they attacked. The man went for Merina and the woman went for Hadvar. The man clearly underestimated her, as his strike was obviously to her stomach and slow. She easily dodged it and then stabbed him in the side of his gut. She pulled out her sword and he fell. She didn't want to think about or check if he was still breathing, the wound was clearly mortal. She cut off his head, partly to make sure he was dead, partly to put him out of his misery if he was still alive. Merina turned around to see if Hadvar needed help.

Hadvar didn't have the advantage of looking small and weaker than he was, so he was having a harder time of it. He and the woman seemed to be of equal skill, each time he tried to get a strike in, she blocked it, and vice-versa. Then, Merina's training revealed to her the tell tale signs of a really good feint that woman was doing. Instinctually, she jumped forward and slammed her blade into the woman's back, going right through her spine.

She was breathing heavily, blood coursing, heart pounding, and adrenaline coursing through her veins. Hadvar looked up at her with shock and Merina for some reason, felt the need to explain herself.

"She feinting, she going to kill you so I just... did it."

She gave a small smile in her usual way, only the left side of her mouth going up. "Maybe I'll tell you when we get out of here."

'If we get out of here.'

He smiled back at her and they continued running out, going through another hall and down some stairs. After a few right turns, they were going down a hall a door at the end. Was the way out? Merina started running towards it, just wanting this nightmare to be over, when the dragon's roar shook the entire structure. Hadvar yelled, "Look out!", ran to her, grabbed one of her arms, and pulled her back. They narrowly missed being hit by the roof, which the dragon had caused to collapse.

She looked at him, surprise unusually evident on her face. She was usually able to kept a poker face when shocked. "You saved me."

He looked back at her, just as surprised, but for different reasons. "Of course I did. Why wouldn't I?"

"You almost died doing that!"

"I couldn't just let you die without doing anything."

She looked down, her eyebrows furrowed upwards, and crossed her arms over her chest. Her face looked, well not soft, but as close as it could get to being that. Less harsh. "You barely know me," she said in almost a whisper.

He couldn't refute that.  
>"Do you remember my name?"<br>He blushed, which basically answered her question in and of itself. "Cara?" She gave a small chuckle. When she spoke, her voice still had a tone of amusement. "Cassia. Well, that's the name I told you. It's actually Merina."

He didn't even ask her why she lied about it, though he was probably wondering. All he said was, "It suits you."

She smiled, not one usual ones, a real one. Both corners of her mouth went up, though her mouth didn't open.

"The name Hadvar suits you."

He smiled back at her, and somehow she could tell it was a real one to. Now that she got a good look at him, she noticed a few things about him that she hadn't before. His nose was long, like hers, his mouth was rather thin, and he was taller than her. Pretty much everyone, except children, was taller than her, but he was a lot taller. She was almost craning her neck to look him in the eyes. His eyes were what really what got her attention. They were a very light blue, almost blue grey like her's, but not quite. There the light in them that drew her to him. His eyes had a kind light to them. Like he would always be there to help, even if he didn't know you. Which, from the way he'd been acting, he probably would. People said that looks could be deceiving, and usually they were, you only had to take one look at her to see that. But with him, she didn't think that it applied.

Her eyes never had a look of kindness to them. They were an cold, light blue grey, and from,what people said they were intimidating. Cold and calculating. That even when she was being nice, they looked angry. Most of all, that she looked like she was staring right into people's souls when she looked them. Most of the time, she was fine with this. In fact, usually, she took it as a compliment. But sometimes... sometimes she wished that she looked kind. Just like sometimes she wished that she was pretty, even though her appearance didn't bother her most of the time, and she felt like anyone who valued her solely on her appearance was someone who's opinion was utter bs. She thought it was stupid, but sometimes, she still wished it.

The building shook once again from another roar from the dragon. Luckily, no more of the roof fell down, but the way they were going was blocked by the rubble. So, they went through the only other way: a door on the left.

They entered the largest room in the keep she'd seen yet. It was made of dark grey stone like the rest of military buildings in Helgen, but there were attempts to give it warmth. There was a cream colored rug with red patterns on it and a pelt on the wall. The standard Imperial banner was hanging up, a red dragon insignia on a black background. Stores of food lay on shelves, this had to be a storeroom in case the fort had to hold out under siege. There was the slight problem of there being two Stormcloaks in the room. They were arguing, but pretty quickly they realized that Merina and Hadvar were there. This time there was no hesitation on either of their parts. The bigger of the two went after Hadvar, once again she was underestimated, which she wasn't complaining about. Before the man even got a chance to strike, she used the sword in her right hand to distract him by slashing at his lower stomach. He easily blocked it, but couldn't push her back, which was the point. With her left hand, she grabbed the dagger in belt as fast as she could. Before he could react, she stabbed it clean through his throat, the tip just barely sticking through the back of it. She pulled it off and cleaned it off a little on her armor, the blood blending in with the red colored leather. She saw that the rest of the Stormcloaks were dead, and Hadvar left standing with minimal injuries, only a small cut on the shoulder and his lower arm.

"We should grab some supplies. The nearest town is about three days away."

She found a thin, leather satchel which she put over her shoulder. She found a couple of carrots and potatoes which she threw in. When she found the mead, however, she put the three bottles she found in the bag with the utmost care. Those things were in glass bottles. She had to be careful. Besides, she had no idea what the quality of the water was like here. She was lucky enough to find some healing potions, which just as luckily had thicker glass than the mead. Besides that, there was some salt lying around, which she didn't think were useful.

Since there was only one bag lying around, Hadvar put all of the stuff he found lying around, which consisted of the same things she'd found, in her's. Then they kept moving, as the dragon was continuing to cause the entire structure to shake. She hoped that no one was above ground at this point. She would hate to be them.

There was only one door, so they had to go through that. Once again, they encountered Stormcloaks. This time, however, they weren't without allies. There were two other Imperials in the same armor that Hadvar and Merina were wearing. Together, they made short work of the two Stormcloaks.

Once the Stormcloaks were dead, she was able to get a good look at the room. There were two metal cages against the wall, one holding what looked like a skeleton in a set of blue robes. One of the men was wearing a dark brown hood, like the one the headsman was wearing, only a different color. Merina felt sick. This was a torture room. Hadvar must have sensed her horror, as he whispered, "The torture room. Gods, I wish we didn't need these."

The one in the hood, probably the torturer, had a slimy voice when he spoke. She knew this because he said something just as slimy as his voice.

"You fellows happened along just in time. These boys seemed a bit upset over how I've been entertaining their comrades."

For a second, she wanted to kill that man. Right then and there. She knew what it was like to feel that pain of losing someone you loved. Of wanting to make the person who caused it feel their pain. She still felt that feeling. That complete fury and hatred. After almost eleven years, she still felt it. And she would feel it until she found the monster and drove a sword through her gullet. Besides finding a place to live in Skyrim, that was her top priority. She couldn't imagine what it was like to hear about your friends being tortured.

"Don't you even know what's going on? A dragon is attacking Helgen!" That was Hadvar.

The torturer scoffed. "A dragon? Please. Don't make up nonsense." He paused for a second, "Although, come to think of it, I did hear some strange noise coming from over there."

"Come with us. We need to get out of here."

The torturer gave him a look of disdain, "You have no authority over me, boy." If Hadvar was like Merina, he would have exploded over that. She felt like exploding over that on his behalf, that they were trying to save this man's miserable excuse for a life, and he was getting snippy with them?! But he didn't. Somehow, he stayed calm. That man, Merina decided, had the patience of a saint. He did however, try again.

"Didn't you hear me? I said the keep is under attack!"

The other man, she wasn't quite sure who he was, maybe the torturer's assistant, seemed to have some sense. "Forget the old man, I'm coming with you."

While the three of them were arguing, Merina was searching around the room. She went to the small table by a column, grabbed the gold on it, and looked through the satchel on the table. There was some more gold and a few lock picks inside. She of course, took all of it, placing them as discreetly as she could in her bag. That was when she saw a book on the table. It was right in plain sight, but she'd been focused on other things, so she hadn't immediately seen it. The cover was dark grey, with the Imperial insignia in silver. She picked it up, and turned it to see the binding. The Book of the Dragonborn. She put it in her bag too. For luck.

That was when Hadvar turned to her. "Can you get that cage open? We'll need everything we can get."

Apparently, the torturer had lost the key. She wondered why Hadvar thought she would be able to do it, but it was true that she could. She and Avitus had tons of practice going through secret passages in the Count's castle. Because the count was his cousin, Avitus could go anywhere. Once, they'd gotten stuck in one of the passages for almost two days before they found a way out. She smiled slightly at the memory.

She walked up to the cage. This was all about precision. If she pulled it the wrong way, the pick would break. It was a pretty easy lock, one little push was all she needed to open the door. She walked in a little hesitantly. It didn't feel right taking things from a dead man.

'He's dead, what could he use money for?' She thought, trying to rationalize it.

She took the money, silently apologizing and glad the man's suffering was over, and put it in her bag. Then everyone, except the torturer, began to walk away. Just as they were about out go down the next hallway, the torturer called out, "There's no way out that way!"

For the first time that day, Merina said something to someone that wasn't Hadvar. She was tired, she was cold, her head was pounding, she hadn't had a decent meal in weeks, she had been kicked out of her home, she had been on the run for almost a month, she had accidentally gotten into a battle, she had almost been killed via beheading, she had almost been killed via a dragon, which, by the way, weren't even supposed to exist! And now this jackass was telling her, after all of that, there was no way to escape. She was fed up. So she felt quite justified in turning around and yelling, "Shut up!"

Then she continued on with the other two, feeling much better. While the other man looked a little surprised, Hadvar didn't.

They went down the short hallway, then a flight of stairs, and came to what was probably once another storeroom. Other people had obviously gotten there before them, as there was a huge hole in the wall. The only question was who made it.

Merina went through first. All she wanted to do was get out of this keep, out of this town. Even if there were a thousand dragons in her way, she was going to get out of there. So she calmly went through, not caring what was in her way. The other two followed, a bit slower, behind her. It would be kind of embarrassing for two large, muscled men in the Legion to be scared of doing something that a tiny civilian was willing to. Besides, they probably wanted to get out as much as she did.

As it turned out, it was the Stormcloaks who got through the wall. There were six of them. One on the stone bridge, one just beyond it, two on the other side of the room, and two below. Merina went for the man on the bridge first. She ran forward, taking him off guard, and then stabbed him as hard as she could in the stomach with her sword. As fast as she could, she pulled her blade out, and slammed him with her right fist, knocking him off the thin bridge. Then she ran at break neck speed towards the next man in her way. He barely had time to begin to raise his sword before she cut off his head. As he fell, she grabbed him and began to use him as a human shield. The men on the other side of the room were archers and she didn't fancy getting hit by an arrow. She began running across the next bridge, the dead man's steel boots clanking against the stone. She took half a second to analyze her surroundings. The two archers were unwittingly standing on an rainbow colored oily substance that burned very easily. And there was a torch on the wall. She took a gamble, dropping her human shield and going for the torch, moving faster than the arrows could hit her. By the time one of the archers got an arrow out of the quiver, she was already at the wall. She grabbed the torch and flung it as hard as she could at the oil. One of the archers was able to get out of the way just in time, but the other went up in flames. Yelling some unintelligible battle cry, she threw herself at the man and slammed her sword at his head. He fell down, unconscious. Then, with one strike, she cut off his head.

She turned around. The torturer's assistant was lying on the ground dead, Hadvar was fine, and the last two Stormcloaks were also dead.

"You alright?" She called out. He seemed fine, but it was better to check and everything be fine than to not and he had a horrible injury.

"I'm fine." He smiled as he said it.

Before going on, Merina grabbed the decapitated Stormcloak's bow and arrows. She still didn't like stealing from the dead, but she could use those arrows and he couldn't.

She quickly examined at the bow. It was a bow usually used by hunters, not the type she was used to using, the Imperial Bow. This one had a slightly smaller range, but wasn't as heavy. She could use it, for now.

There was a tunnel with a high ceiling. Seeing no alternative, they went through, hoping that there would be some exit. They kept going until they reached wooden wall with a lever right next to it. Merina took a deep breath and pulled it, hoping there was no trap that went along with it. Those traps were never very fun, to put it lightly.

The wall fell down and made a bridge to the other side. They almost ran across, just wanting for this nightmare to be over. It was good thing they did, because as soon as they crossed it, the dragon caused the ceiling to collapse again, caving in the way back.

"Damn. Trapped. The others will just have to find another way out."

She hated to be the killjoy, but she had to ask, "Do you think there are any others?"

He looked at her seriously, "I hope so."

They went down some stairs. This time there was no hallway. They were in a cave, the smallest of streams running through with water so clear, she could see the almost black stone underneath easily. They went down as far as they could, but then it stopped. "Dead end." He said.

It was pretty depressing looking, the stream just flowed right into a wall. But then Merina saw  
>a small tunnel. She smiled, pointed to it and said, "What about that way?"<p>

He smiled back at her, and they started walking through. Everything was fine until the tunnel widened into another cave. The cave in and of itself was normal. What was in it was the problem. Spiders. Merina hated spiders, big and small. They didn't scare her, she just didn't like them one bit. These spiders were bigger than the normal ones. They weren't the really big ones that she'd read about. At least, she thought they weren't.

They weren't very smart. They took on something twice their size and their only weapon was their poison. They were easier to kill than the Stormcloaks, all she needed to do was stab them. Their spines weren't very thick. When they had gotten rid of them she heard Hadvar say, "What's next, giant snakes?"

She quietly chuckled a little. She'd read about the giant snakes that had lived hundreds of years ago. They were probably just a myth, though. Then again, before today, she had thought that dragons were just a myth.

The cave thinned out again and, once again, they were going through a tunnel. The stream came back and there was a small land bridge. "Do you see that?" She whispered. There was something at the edge of the cavern, she couldn't quite tell what it was. It looked rather like a not quite round bolder, but she wasn't entirely sure.

"No." He whispered too.

She pointed to it. He couldn't tell what it was either. So she carefully walked, slowly and as quietly could, over the bridge and behind a rock. She stopped and looked over it. Hadvar had followed her, a little less stealthily, and she turned to him.

"It's a bear, should we just stay quiet and risk it or should we attack it?"  
>"I don't think we should antagonize it."<br>She nodded, but pulled her new bow out, just in case. She walked even slower, trying to dull her footsteps.  
>'Just put one foot in front of the other. Just one in front of the other. Carefully... Carefully!'<p>

Just then, the bear snorted and started to stand up. They both froze. But the  
>bear simply stretched and then curled back up again. Merina let out a breath she hadn't known she'd been holding.<p>

They moved quietly, leaning down, not sure if the bear was asleep, and not wanting to test that theory. They stopped being so careful when they were out of the bear's line of sight and went into a tunnel, this one going upward. They all out broke into a run when they saw light and a trail at the end.

Once they got out, Merina wanted to smile, laugh, jump, and just yell in joy all at the same time because finally — finally!— they were out of caves and away from that town. The light was almost blinding after hours of darkness, even though the sun was already setting. Had they been in there for that long?

Merina looked at the sky. It was beautiful, with all shades of yellow, orange, and the smallest dashes of pink around the clouds. The evergreens had the darkest of green leaves and they stood tall, proud, and harsh, jutting out against the gentle sky. Skyrim was covered in trees, they were everywhere, even in the coldest of regions. They were on the mountains, the river valleys, the land that was practically tundra. They were there, even in winter, as if to show the strength of the land. As if it, and all of its inhabitants, could withstand anything.

Suddenly, Hadvar pulled her behind a rock. It was a good thing that he did, because just then, the colossal black dragon appeared, its roars piercing the silence. They watched it, closely and warily, until it was out of sight. Merina's limbs loosened, her fists unclenched, she moved her hands away from her weapon, her breathing slowed, and she once again let out a sigh she hadn't known she'd been holding in. Okay, so Skyrim now had bears living under its keeps, giant spiders, a civil war, and, let's not forget dragons. Dragons that could destroy entire towns!

Apparently, Skyrim was a little more dangerous than she remembered. Finding a way to stop this new dragon problem was going to have to take precedence over revenge. In fact, finding shelter was going to have to take precedence, because night was coming and she didn't think that either of them wanted to be in the open when that happened.

Neither of them wanted to be in that cave for a second longer, so they kept moving. They weren't able to find a well placed cave, so instead found a hill by some trees and "set up camp" there. It could hardly be called that, because they had nothing with them but the clothes and weapons on their backs. They managed to find enough wood on the ground to start a fire.

Merina sat on a log and stared at the gold and orange flames, her legs pulled to her chest and held by her arms. She was shivering.

Hadvar sat down and scooted towards her uncomfortably.  
>"Are you cold?"<br>"A little."  
>"I'd, um, I'd give you a blanket or something, but um..."<br>"There isn't one. But, thank you." She said softly and smiled. Then, just as she thought of it, she asked, "Can you— can you help me think about something else. Just sitting here makes me feel more cold. If it's not too much trouble."

He nodded and smiled. "Where part of Cyrodiil are you from?"  
>She smiled in relief, "I lived in Kvatch for about ten years, but I'm was born in Skyrim."<br>"Oh, really what part?"  
>"Around here, actually. What part of Skyrim are you from?"<br>"Riverwood— it's in Whiterun. It's the closest town, a couple days away."

They kept talking long into the night. He told her about his childhood, that he was orphaned at thirteen and had gone to live with his Uncle Alvor, who was a blacksmith, and Aunt Sigrid, who at the time was pregnant with his cousin Dorthe. He told her all about his cousin, that she wanted to be a blacksmith like her father, that she didn't like her mother's attempts to make her more ladylike, about one of his birthdays where she had tried to make a custard, but only got herself covered in gooey flour. He helped her clean up the small house before her parents found out. The next year, she succeed in making a custard. It wasn't very good, but he ate all of it. It made her face light up and she smiled so much that it was worth eating terrible custard and more.

She told him about all the mishaps she and Avitus, she didn't mention who exactly he was, got into. All of their sword lessons, the times they had fruitlessly been searching for treasure (he just wanted to go out and search, she had felt like research and planning were their best bet). Neither approach had worked, whatever else could be said about Aurelia, she could hide her treasure insanely well.

She told him about all the times she had gone against Brother Darion's wishes, all the times she had disobeyed him by going out riding for hours and hours or holing herself up in the castle library. Once she had fallen asleep in there, and no one found her for about a day or so. She always went to that library whenever she was upset. She liked reading just about anything. The history books, books on alchemy, books on politics. Books on tactics were her particular favorite, history coming in a close second. She would never call herself a scholar, but, as the saying goes, those who do not know history are bound to repeat it. When she read about tactics, which interested her more than anything else, she slightly tweaked it. Those who do not know failed tactics are bound to repeat them. She told him of all the times she and Brother Darion fought over her joining the Legion. But she also told him of the time when she had been very sick, and he had nursed her back to health, ignoring everything else. The time when he saved up all the money he could just to make sure she could have the book, Mixed Unit Tactics, she wanted. He wrapped it up in beautiful red paper with gold ribbon and she was scared to even touch it, because she thought she would break it. He didn't like her fascination with the book, and the desire to join the Legion it enflamed. But still, he had gotten her the book. The time when she had loved some guy from Hammerfell, and he loved her, and she thought that feeling would last forever. Then he left her to go to the Arena. She had been crying for weeks, and Avitus and Brother Darion got her the best chocolates from southern Morrowind.

Before, she was angry, or sad, or amused, or happy when she thought of those memories. Now, all she felt was a pull in her stomach. Sometimes, she wished those times had never ended. But there was no point in that. No matter what she wanted, it wasn't going to change anything. She needed to focus on what was actually happening, not what she wished had happened. After all, if wishing did anything, then her father would still be alive, she would still be with her mother, she wouldn't have gotten anywhere near execution, and there would be no dragon. If wishing did anything, then the original Martin Septim wouldn't have died, her family would have stayed on the throne, the Thalmor wouldn't even exist, the Empire would have never fallen into decline, and she would have been born a princess, a future legitimate Empress, who had nothing to be afraid of and never suffered a single thing in her life, not the scion of an illegitimate line of an illegitimate line. But wishing didn't do anything.

She changed the subject. "Do you know Ralof? The way you reacted, and you knew his name."  
>His face darkened.<br>"I'm sorry I shouldn't have asked that, it's none of my business."  
>"No it's alright. You're right, I do know Ralof. He grew up in Riverwood, same<br>as me. For years, we were the best of friends. Then, the war started, and everything changed. He sided with the Stormcloaks and I sided with the Empire, and things just changed. We started arguing all the time. There was nothing we could agree on, except that we hated each other. We had this fight two years ago, he broke my nose and I gave him a black eye. He ran off to join Ulfric and I went to join the Legion. I haven't seen him since. I guess all that anger... just came out."

He looked upset and Merina wanted to go comfort him. She just didn't know how. She had never been good with emotional people and she knew even less about helping them. But she moved closer to him and put her hand on his, in what she hoped was a reassuring gesture. He didn't move or push her away.

They sat there, in silence, just staring at the fire, for what seemed like hours. In actuality, it was more like twenty minutes. Then they looked at each other and laughed nervously, not really sure why. They pulled away awkwardly and looked at each other once more before laughing again. They went to sleep after that.

Merina dreamed again. Usually, she didn't have dreams. And if she did, she didn't remember them. Like everything else in her life, that was changing.

She was in darkness, in what was vaguely a pitch black room, but she wasn't sure. At first she was alone, but then she saw her father. He looked at her, his eyes completely white and glowing. He didn't even seem to recognize her.

"You know what to do."

Suddenly, her hair was whipping, and her voice was drowned out, but there was no wind. More and more people appeared, all with glowing white eyes. All of them were saying, "You know what to do."

She kept saying, yelling at the top of her lungs, "No! I don't!" But no one seemed to even acknowledge that she'd said anything.

She was turning wildly, trying to find some way out. But more and more people showed up, surrounding her in a large circle. As more and more arrived, she saw that some of the new ones were wearing the amulet and the emperor's crown, a golden diadem inset with diamonds, rubies, and amethysts. These were her ancestors. She recognized a few of them, but most were unknown to her.

There were so many of them, that their cry was now deafening. Then, suddenly, part of the circle opened up, and one man walked to her. The shouts were now murmurs and their words blended together.

The man was closer and she could see him more clearly. He was at least a foot, almost two, taller than her. Unlike the others, his eyes were not glowing nor were they white. They were a dark, stormy grey. He a long nose, narrow eyes, a strong jaw, and more than a few laugh lines. His hair and beard were dark brown with a few strands of grey. The strangest thing about him was that he had a dark storm cloud above his head. When she saw that, she knew where one was. She started to go to her knees, but he stopped her and gently pushed her back up.  
>His voice was firm, but kind and gentle. "You know what to do."<p>

"No— no I don't." Her voice was shaky, the opposite of his.

He looked at her, not unkindly, with a small, knowing smile. She sighed and her body sort of crumpled.

"But— how? How am I ever going to be able to do this?"

He smiled at her again. This time she got angry. "If you're a god, can't you just tell me how this is all going to end up?"

"I know as much of the future as you do. But you," He pointed to her, "are Merina Septim. You won't give up until you find a way."

He took her hand and pressed something into it, but she couldn't tell what. Suddenly, the man looked startled. He tried say something, now looking uneasy but she couldn't hear him anymore. He started fading, first from the legs and then going upwards. Faster than she could even move, he was gone, like he had never been there at all. Everything started swirling together and she started getting dizzy. All the voices were getting louder and louder, moving together unintelligibly. They were getting closer and closer, and now the sound of huge, wings came. She saw the outline of a dragon, searching. It was getting closer and closer and somehow she realized that it was looking for her. Suddenly, she was burning, everything was on fire! She screamed, completely confused, and, even though this was a dream, felt like she The last thing she saw was the dragon's face, with long black scales, two nasty looking horns, and eyes the color of the hottest flames. he opened his mouth to blast her with more fire and she screamed once again.

Then, she was awake. Hadvar had been shaking her, so her upper body was slightly off the ground, and he was still holding her upper arms. He was staring at her in confusion.

"You were having a nightmare and were flailing around. I thought you were going to hurt yourself."

She nodded, realizing she was in a little shock, as she was breathing heavily and her eyes were wide. Once he moved away, she opened her left hand. In it was a necklace, a small raven with its huge wings spread out wide and rubies for eyes on a silver chain. She knew that necklace, it had been one of the two things she had kept from before her father died. He had given it to her as gift when she was nine and told her it was a family heirloom. But in her rush to get out, she had left it in Kvatch. There was one other thing in her hand, a note. It said, "Go to her mausoleum. Knock three times on the coffin lid. Then put it in the door."

There wasn't much she could do about that now, as she didn't think even attempting to go back to go a good idea. She only had to look at how leaving had worked out to see that. She placed both the necklace and the note into her bag, and hoped that she wouldn't lose it. She wasn't sure what it was going to give her, she hoped it wouldn't give her some creepy final words of somebody or of some skeleton. That would just be creepy.

They didn't have anything to clean up, so they were on their way soon enough. The sun was just starting to rise, and since it was almost winter, that meant that at least they weren't up obscenely early. The sky was a deep red, and it remade Merina of a saying she had once heard. Red sky at night, sailor's delight. Red sky in morning, sailor's warning.

I will be using game dialogue at times. Any dialogue that you recognize isn't mine. Thanks again to my beta and, once again, I own nothing.


	4. Chapter 4

_"This is the period of Merina's life where we begin to have records of where she was. However, precious few of these are actual primary sources. Most of the records were in the Imperial Library that Merina built, and in 397 5th Era, a little over three hundred years after her death, it burned down. The documents we do have, such as the one written by the woman herself, all have an agenda. Most are legends from the time, and if they have any truth are highly exaggerated. This makes writing about the woman very difficult as often, no one knew where she was or what she was doing until she once again encountered General Tullius and the Legion."_

_~ Life of the Empress Kintrya III, volume one, by Chaes Bernarion_

Hadvar was correct when he said that it would take them three days to reach Riverwood. And those were not three peaceful quiet days in which nothing gave them any trouble. There were wolves, everywhere. Wolves that would fight in a pack and try to surround the two of them. These were not wolves that would generally leave people alone. These were the wolves that always, always wanted to eat them. Wolves that liked to attack at night, preventing sleep. Wolves that were generally a nuisance.

By the time they got to Riverwood, they were annoyed, tired, wet (it had rained), and hungry. Merina had never thought she could have ever missed Brother Darion's cooking as much as she did in those two days. She was, months later, going to realize that it could be much, much worse. It was worse, when not only were you hungry, annoyed, and tired, you were also so far north that you never really got warm and instead of wolves, you had angry frost trolls and ice wolves. Now, ice wolves were also wolves, hence the name, but they were ten times meaner and, more importantly, ten times tougher. But that was besides the point, and at that point Merina hadn't factored in how much she hated the cold.

When they got to Riverwood, it was the 21st of Last Seed and about three in the afternoon. Even though they had finally dried off, the water's chill was still there and they were covered in mud. There were at least seven scratches on Hadvar's arm, neither of them could remember where he got them, and a few more on Merina. All either of them wanted to do was just lie down on an actual bed. Indoors. Where there were no wolves. Getting to the town was a relief for Merina. The light at the end of the tunnel.

The town was much smaller than Kvatch and much different. Instead of marble, the buildings were made of wood. In style, they sort of reminded her of the temple back home. On the left side, there was river and a mill with a water wheel churning in the river, making small white waves. The mill was the biggest building in the town. On the other side were the smaller buildings. The one closest to her she assumed to be a house, since an old woman was sitting in a wheelchair on its porch. She was arguing with a younger (he was about her age, perhaps a bit older) blond man. There were a lot blond men in Skyrim. It would be easier to say who wasn't blond.

"I saw a dragon! It flew right over the barrow!"

The man didn't believe seem to believe her, but of course Merina did. Stuff like that was easier to believe when you had actually seen the dragon in question. They kept walking for maybe a minute more until they reached a blacksmith's shop, she could tell by the forge and the sign which had the customary anvil on it, near the river. She saw another blond man, but this one at least ten years older, standing in front. His brows were furrowed and his mouth was pursed.

"Uncle Alvor, hello!"

At this, the man's face brightened up. But he looked confused and said,

"Hadvar what are you doing here? Are you on leave from the— Shor's bones, what happened to you, boy? You look like you lost an argument with a cave bear. Are you in some kind of trouble—"

Hadvar hushed him and said, "Uncle, keep your voice down, I'm fine. We should go inside to talk."

"What's going on? And who's this?" Here he gestured to Merina.

"She's a friend. Saved my life in fact. Come on. I'll explain everything, but we need to go inside."

"Okay, okay. Come inside then. Sigrid will get you something to eat and you can tell all about it.

The shop also doubled as his house, because they simply walked across the porch and went inside.

Simply stepping inside sent a wave of nostalgia, homesickness, and a bit sadness through Merina. She really couldn't quite remember what her old house looked like, she couldn't remember much of anything from the part of her life that felt like it had never really happened. But she supposed that it had to have looked this. The house was small, with a double bed against the wall right next to the fireplace and a small chest in front of it. Against the right wall of the house was a smaller bed. Probably for Hadvar's cousin. He had mentioned her name in passing. What was it? It started with a D, she knew that. Dorea? Dorothy? Whatever her name was, the girl was sitting at small table, also against the right wall, in one of two chairs. Next to it was a large cupboard. Practically everything was made of wood, with the exception of the fireplace.

Alvor walked over to a larger table, which had some food on it, that Merina looked with hunger. There hadn't much food in wild. Must have all been scared away by the dragon, she supposed, except for those damn wolves and neither of them of them had dared suggesting eating them. They weren't that desperate. It was lucky that that they had grabbed some food from the keep or they might have been.

Alvor shouted, "Sigrid, we have company."

A woman, with the same shade of dark blonde hair as Merina's, walked up a flight of stairs next to the left side of the small house. "Hadvar! We've been so worried! Come, you two must be hungry. Sit down and I'll get you something to eat."

Since Alvor was already sitting down, Merina guessed that Sigrid was also talking to her. Hadvar sat across from Alvor, so Merina sat in the third chair at the head of the table.

"So, Hadvar, what's the big mystery? Why are you doing here, looking like you lost an argument with a cave bear?"

"I don't know where to start. You know I was assigned to General Tullius' guard. We were stopped in Helgen when we were attacked... by a dragon."

"A dragon? That's... ridiculous. You aren't drunk, are you, boy?"

Sigrid chided him. "Husband, let him tell his story."

Hadvar shrugged and let out a sigh. "Not much more to tell. This dragon flew over and just wrecked the whole place. Mass confusion. I don't know if anyone else got out alive. I doubt I'd have made it out myself, if not for Merina here." He jerked his head a little towards her when he mentioned her name. "I need to get back to Solitude and let them know what's happened. I thought you could help us out. Food, supplies, a place to stay."

"Of course!" Then Alvor looked at her. "Any friend of Hadvar's is a friend of mine. I'm glad to help in anyway I can. But I need your help. The Jarl needs to know there's a dragon on the loose. Riverwood is defenseless."

Merina couldn't refuse him, not after he'd offered her food and a place to stay. She took only what she needed. Just two loaves of bread a bottle of mead. She wouldn't feel right taking anymore from those who had so little. She hadn't noticed it at the time, but she'd had a lot back in Kvatch. At least she had a four walls and bed. She had food. She'd even had a couple luxuries, like books. She didn't need to work to survive. Now she going to have to depend on the kindness of others.

The little girl started talking, fast and excited. "Hadvar, did you really see a dragon? What did it look like? Did it have big teeth?"

Sigrid hushed her. "Don't pester your cousin."

The girl— Merina finally remembered her name, it was Dorthe— didn't say anything more, so Merina asked Hadvar for directions.

"Go down the road and over the bridge, turn right and follow it until you get to a the Honningbrew Meadery—there'll be a sign. You should see a city by that point. That's Whiterun. The Jarl lives in Dragonsreach, it's at the top of the city."

She thanked him for the directions, and thanked Alvor and Sigrid for all they had given her. She started towards the door, but as she reached for the handle, Hadvar tapped her arm. She turned, rather confused. He gave her a smile. "You know, as far I'm concerned, you've earned your pardon. But until we get that confirmed by General Tullius, you should probably avoid any Imperial soldiers. Just to avoid complications." He then looked at her, like he was trying to figure out what to say next. "Listen, after you warn the Jarl, you should head up to Solitude and join the Legion."

She chuckled a little at this. "Join the people that nearly cut off my head. How tempting."

He smiled again at her. "I know today wasn't the best introduction. But if the rebels have themselves a dragon, General Tullius is the one who can stop them."

"Actually, I just might. But not now. I think— I think there's more to this dragon problem than meets the eye. Just call it my gut."

He nodded. "Well, good luck."

"You too."

After that, she walked, questions racing through her mind. She had never understood that prophecy about the last Dragonborn, and no one had, until she had that dream. She hated prophecies. She always had. They were always cryptic, you never understood them, not until they were completed and absolutlely. They were always laced vague language. If the Divines wanted to help people by giving them warning, they could at give them in clearer words. Besides, there weren't many prophecies. The few people with the gift, or curse as some people would call it, mostly had visions. These weren't much better than actual prophecies, they small, often hundreds of years in the future, and the people who saw them usually no idea what was going on or who it was about.

But there was no time to brood over that at moment. She more important things to do, and questions were going to have to be put on hold. As was getting revenge. Though all she wanted to do was just go out, find, and kill, that monster, she had to admit that she had waited almost eleven years for this. She could wait a little longer. Stopping the end of the word without question took precedence.

She considered grabbing some food from the inn "The Sleeping Giant" because she wouldn't feel right taking anymore from Alvor and Sigrid, but decided against it. She could eat later. Warning the Jarl about the dragons was more important than her grabbing a bite to eat. Besides, she didn't really have much money. Just about twenty septims, which would give her two nights in an inn.

So she kept on walking, right past the town's northern wall and basically right on to a bridge. The view from the bridge was beautiful. There were so many trees and flowers along the river's banks. And the river itself was just as lovely, rushing and gurgling down south. The entire place was like something out of a fairytale.

But she kept moving on. This really wasn't the time for sightseeing. She continued down the cobblestone path, whistling as she went. The road to Whiterun was easy, and actually quite pretty, in a rural sort of way. She remembered the last time she had went down that road, it was with Brother Darion. She quickly learned, however, that the roads had become much less safe than before, because a pack of wolves jumped out her.

Wolves weren't exactly the most fearsome beasts of Skyrim she had faced (that honor went to the Frost Trolls), but they were annoying, especially in a pack. She pulled out her sword, which was iron, not the best type, but it would have to do. The wolves weren't hard to beat, but because there were at least five of them, she did get a cut or two on her legs. She was going to have to patch her pants soon enough. She pulled out the healing potion and dropped some of the liquid on the scratches. It stung a bit, but it was better than them getting infected. Because the wounds were so minor, they started closing up as soon as the red liquid touched them.

She kept going, and soon a castle was in view. Dragonsreach, she vaguely remembered. Now that it was in sight, she broke out into a run, wanting to make sure that the dragon didn't attack Riverwood before she could get them protection.

The town (it really wasn't big enough to be a city) was exactly as she remembered it. A grey stone wall that was starting to fall into disrepair surrounded it, with an entrance way that she walked through. This was outermost part of the city from what she remembered. It had wooden towers all the way up to the gate that were surrounded by natural rock formations. Then she came to part that was still in good repair, the one held the drawbridge over a moat, that wasn't very thick, but it was a far enough drop down, that anyone would need to cross t bridge to go over it. Finally, she got to the one entrance into the city, the large wooden gate. Two guards were standing in front of it. The one on the left side walked up to her.

"Halt! City's closed with the dragons about."

Merina didn't even bother with courtesies. "Listen I was at Helgen. I know where the dragon's going."

The guard back towards the other. When the one who was still standing at the gate shrugged, the one in front of her looked back at her and, with what she could tell was reluctance, said, "Fine, but we'll be keeping an eye on you."

She practically ran through the gates as soon the guards opened then and proceeded to race through the city, trying not to bump into anyone. She ran through the main square, up some steps, but stopped in front of a huge, white, leafless tree. The time she had been here, it had been alive, thriving. What had happened? What really caught her eye was the statue at the edge of that part of the city between two flights of stairs. It was a statue of Talos, she remembered it from the time she had been here. She also remembered the surprise that it was still there. The only statues you would see of Talos in Cyrodiil were the ones so far out in the wilderness, that no had bothered to cover up or destroy. But here was one, right in the middle of town. She didn't remember the priest that was in front of it, however. She would have remembered that one almost screaming about the virtues of Talos and his great power. But she moved, she had a job to do. She went to biggest flight stairs yet, with the first set having stone dragon heads, at least that's what she thought they were, on it above two braziers. Beyond that was a bridge its water flowing next to it from grates on the next flight of stairs.

The entrance to Dragonreach, once she had gotten up to it, was beautiful. There was more water on each side of the path to the huge doors. Along side the stone path were high wooden arches. Dragonsreach itself was a huge wooden building, with four more ornamental dragon heads on the edges of the roof.

She half walked, half ran to the doors and pushed them open as quickly as she could, which was which was a bit slower than she had thought, because the doors were heavier than they looked. Dragonsreach was just as impressive on the inside. There was a fancy rug from the doors to wide flight of stairs. Next to the rug was a set of archways with engraved patterns near the bottom.

As soon as gotten up the short flight of stairs, she was obviously in the dining area, because two, very long tables, with a fire in the middle. She saw what she guessed was Jarl, as he was sitting in a throne that was directly below could have been a dragon's skull. But before she could get of the Jarl, a Dark Elf woman in steel armor approached her with a sword in her hand.

"What's the meaning of this? Jarl Balgruuf is not allowing visitors," She said in a tone seemed like that if Merina said the wrong thing, this woman would have no problem with stabbing her.

"I have news from Helgen. About the dragon."

The woman studied her, probably trying to figure out if Merina was telling the truth. Apparently, the woman thought that Merina did, as she said, "Well, that explains why the guards let you in."

She sheathed her sword and walked back to the Jarl. Merina followed her. She approached the Jarl. He had blond hair, as seeming everyone in Skyrim did, that was about shoulder length. He wearing a diadem encrusted with a ruby and two emeralds. His clothes were finer she had seen in Skyrim yet, with a fur cape and fur in the leather boots.

"So, you were at Helgen." He said, "You saw this dragon with you eyes."

She thought a snarky comment about her almost execution, but thought it wiser to not mention that. So she merely said. "The dragon destroyed Helgen. And last I saw, it was heading over the mountains, coming here.

The Jarl seemed shocked and rather angry. "By Ysmir, Irileth was right!"

Merina could have sworn she knew that name, Ysmir, not Irileth, but she couldn't place it. She supposed that Irileth was the Dark Elf's name, it didn't sound like a Nord name. Her suspicions were probably right after Jarl Balgruuf turned to man next to him and said, "What do you say now Proventus? Shall we continue to trust in the strength of our walls? Against a dragon?"

Unless Irileth was the name of the man sitting at the table eating, which she doubted, that was definitely the Dark Elf's name.

"My lord, we should send troops to Riverwood at once." As she said that, she walking towards Jarl Balgruuf. "It's in the most immediate danger. If that dragon is lurking in the mountains..."

But the man on the left shook his head and interjected, "The Jarl of Falkreath will view that as a provocation! He'll assume we're preparing to join Ulfric's side and attack him."

The Jarl seemed a bit irritated at this point, "Enough!" He then turned his head to the Dark Elf woman, "Irileth, send a detachment to Riverwood at once."

"Yes, my Jarl."

Proventus tried again, "We should not—"

Jarl Balgruuf interrupted him, seeming more than irritated at this point. "I'll not stand by while a dragon burns my hold and slaughters my people!"

At this, Proventus backed down. "I'll return to my duties."

In a curt tone, the Jarl replied, "That would be best."

Then, Jarl Balgruuf turned to her. He didn't seem angry, at least at her, which was good. "Well done, you sought me out on your own initiative. You've done Whiterun a service, and I won't forget it. Here, take this as a token of my esteem."

At that, he motioned to a servant who was carrying steel armor. The servant came over and gave it to her. Surprised, she thanked the Jarl, but he waved it off. The armor was a bit bigger than what would fit her, but if she just put it over the leather she'd been wearing, it would fit fine. However, she didn't think this was the time to do that.

Jarl Balgruuf began to speak again, "There is something you could do for me. Suitable for your particular talents, perhaps. Come, let's go find Farengar, my court wizard. He's been looking into these dragons and... rumors of dragons."

They walked down the small flight of stairs and into a large room on the right. It had all the sorts of things you would need for sorcery, she saw potions and a couple soul gems lying around. There was also an enchanter, an alchemy table, and, oddly, a map of Skyrim. In the middle of the room stood a man in a blue robe and hood.

"Farengar, I think I've found someone who can help you with your dragon project. Go and fill her in with all the details."

"So the Jarl thinks you could be of use to me?"

Merina nodded, did he not hear Jarl Balgruuf say that?

"Yes, I could use someone to fetch something for me. Well, when I say fetch, I really mean delve into a dangerous ruin in search of an ancient stone tablet that may or may not actually be there."

Well at least he was honest about it. But Merina wasn't just about to risk her life without asking questions first. Like, say, why she was getting this tablet.

"What does this have to do with the dragons?"

He seemed rather impressed. "Ah, no brute mercenary, but a thinker. Perhaps even a scholar?"

"Perhaps, but, please, answer the question."

"You see, when the stories of dragons began to circulate, many dismissed them as mere fantasies, rumors. Impossibilities. One sure mark of a fool is to dismiss anything that falls outside his experience as being impossible. But I began to search for information about dragons - where had they gone all those years ago? And where were they coming from?"

Good questions, she had to admit, but now she would need directions.

"So what exactly do you need me to do?"

"I, ah, learned of a certain stone tablet said to be housed in Bleak Falls Barrow - a 'Dragonstone,' said to contain a map of dragon burial sites. Go to Bleak Falls Barrow, find this tablet - no doubt interred in the main chamber - and bring it to me. Simplicity itself."

If it sounded that simple, it most assuredly wasn't going to be. But at this point, she didn't have much of a choice. She pulled out her map and had him mark the barrow. It was on a mountain, and if she just went almost back to Riverwood and just before crossing back over the first bridge went left, she would be on the path. She remembered seeing a sign for it on her way to Whiterun.

The Jarl started talking to Farengar, but she didn't stick around to listen. She left Dragonsreach, but before leaving the city, put the steel armor above her leather armor. No sense in going into a dangerous barrow without all the protection she could have. Even if she usually went for speed, she was going up against dragons and Divines knew what else. It was time to change her style. By the time she got back to Riverwood, it was nighttime, and she didn't feel safe going up a mountain in the dark.

She asked Alvor and Sigrid if she could stay in their house for the night and, luckily, they agreed. She slept in a chair that night, not the most comfortable, but glad to at least not be sleeping out in the cold. Before she fell, she heard about how one of the shops got robbed. Apparently, only a golden claw was stolen. What got her attention was the fact that a reward was being offered. She needed all the money she could get.

As soon as she woke up, she thanked Alvor and Sigrid again and left. She once again, walked through town, passed the inn, went over the bridge, and this time, went left. She was walking up the mountain, watching out for anything. Suddenly, a wolf jumped out at her, but before it could do anything, she had embedded an arrow clean through its skull. Unfortunately, she wasn't able to get the arrow back out. She needed as many arrows as she could get.

The farther she went up the mountain, the colder it got. Icy wind was blowing across and it felt like it was just going through her. She was not dressed for this weather.

'When I get the money,' she promised herself, 'I am buying a coat. A nice, wonderful, warm fur coat.'

It was a good thing she didn't say that out loud, because just then she saw a crumbling tower come into view. And just as soon as she saw that, she saw the bandits.

Originally, she just tried to slip by them. There was no point in antagonizing the bandits. But that didn't work, because one of the bandits was leaning against a tree and could see her from every angle.

He said, in what she supposed was supposed to be a threatening tone, "That's close enough."

But there was no way around him and this was important. If someone was asking about other dragon burial sites, then maybe, and she didn't like going down this line of thought, because it opened up an entire new can of worms, but maybe dragons were coming back to life. She had no idea how, the idea seemed totally implausible, but it was the only one she had.

So she pulled out her sword and ran up to the man. She apparently caught him off guard, perhaps he wasn't used to people not running away from him and his threats, because he didn't even pull out his weapon and just stared at her like she was an idiot.

Before he could snap out of his shock, she thrust her sword into his abdomen. He screamed and out of the corner of her eye, she saw another man, this one run out of the tower, pulling out his bow and an arrow as he did.

But Merina moved fast and moved behind the tree. It wasn't in any way, shape, or form good for protection for very long, as demonstrated by the arrow that whizzed past her head, almost impaling her in the eye. But it did give her a chance to pull out her bow and an arrow of her own. She readied the arrow and as quickly as she could released the arrow, hoping that it would hit the man. She hadn't had time to aim.

Merina got lucky, her arrow pierced right through his armor into the lung area. Merina thought she heard more bandits coming down from the tower, but she didn't stick along long enough to find out. She started running as fast as she could up the mountain, barely able to see from the snow that was coming down in torrents.

The wind was colder than ever, and it was a relief to see the barrow come into view. It was a massive stone structure. Parts of it were admittedly starting to fall into disrepair, but it was still an incredible sight on the mountain. The only problem with it that she had was the bandits. There were three of them. One immediately came charging at her, sword in hand, bellowing something about Skyrim belonging to the Nords. She quickly pulled out her bow and shot an arrow at him. Her aim was a bit off, it hit him in the arm and only slowed him down for a second. Realizing she had little time, she immediately fired another arrow. This time her aim ran true, and the arrow pierced him right in the eye. She had no time to be pleased with her aim, as there were still two more bandits to deal with.

This time, she was going to use her sword. She practically flew up the steps, making sure not to run in a straight path to make it harder to hit her. She went for the archer that was closer, the archer on her right. She ran towards him as fast as she could, so that he wouldn't be able to pull out any close range weapon before she could strike. Before he could do anything, she stabbed him as hard as she could in the stomach.

She didn't have time to think about what she was doing, she dropped the sword, leaving it in the now dead body, and ran as quickly as she could, barely touching the stone floor, towards the last of her attackers. As she did, she pulled out her dagger. Just as she got in range, she slowed down a little and threw the dagger as hard as she could at the man. It stabbed him square in the eye, but since that wasn't a killing blow, Merina kept running towards him.

He was on his knees, screaming in pain, his hands over his face, turned away from her, when Merina got to him. She would have felt sympathy, but she couldn't feel anything beyond the blood pumping fast and loudly, the pounding in her head, her ragged breathing, the howling wind that was cutting through her, and the snow that was chilling her to the bone. He collapsed onto the floor and didn't move.

She came at him from behind and he gave her no sign of realizing that she was there. She pulled out one of her arrows and pushed it through his neck. He collapsed onto the floor and didn't move.

She stood there for a few moments, catching her breath. She stared away from the man, not wanting to look at him. She took a deep breath to steady herself. And then another. Then she turned back to the man on the ground and pulled the arrow out of his neck and wiped it off on her pants. Then she turned his body over, trying to look at the face as little as possible, and pulled the dagger out as well. Merina tried to not look at the dagger as she wiped it off.

She walked across the floor and up the stairs. Just as she was about half way up the stairs, she turned to the body of the first archer and pulled her sword out of his stomach, wiped it off, with the knowledge that she was going to have to get her pants cleaned, or just get new ones. Then she continued up the steps. She opened the barrow's large doors as quietly as she could, not knowing what would be on the other side.

As it turned out, there were two people, a man and a woman, talking about a third man who wasn't around and some gold claw. Merina hid behind a column and slowly pushed her head beyond it.

The pair hadn't noticed Merina yet, so she pulled another arrow out and readied her bow as quietly as she could. She took her time in aiming, as the two people showed no sign of noticing her. The woman was the one with the bow, as Merina thought it would be easier to go for the close range fighter after losing the element of surprise. She could block a sword or dagger. Without a shield, she couldn't block an arrow. She took a deep breath and pulled the bowstring to her cheek. Then she released, hoping that everything would go according to the sketchy plan she had just made in the last minute or so. As much as she wouldn't like to admit it, she wasn't going to be able to keep this up. She had been fighting in the biting cold more than once and hiked up a mountain with the wind slicing through her without so much as a coat. She was tired, slowing down, even if she liked to think she was fine, and at this rate, she was going to get hypothermia.

She was lucky, very lucky. The arrow killed the woman quickly and her partner apparently couldn't figure out where the arrow came from. From the way the bandits had been talking about some guy named Arvel and it sounded like he had hired them to get some kind of treasure. Merina wasn't exactly sure about treasure, although from her travels, she would hardly be shocked, but what really got her confused was why this Arvel guy hired these second rate thugs. She guessed that the bandits in the tower where with the other bandits, they were just too close together for it to be any other way. If all these bandits, who were thugs and thieves combined, could be taken down by one person, this Arvel wasn't getting his moneys worth.

The still living bandit was crouching next to the woman's body, his hand on her shoulder. Merina took her chance and fired another arrow. It was a clean shot.

Now that the room was empty, the only thing Merina could hear was her own breathing. The huge interior of the barrow smelled odd. Musty, sort of like the Temple back in Kvatch.

The only way to go was down, so that was where Merina went. The barrow looked like no one had been in it in centuries, especially once Merina stopped going down stairs, through a hall, and into an actual room. Cobwebs littered the ceiling corners. Dust was everywhere, the stone table in the corner of the room, the book on the table, the floor, everywhere except a few jars. The jars were golden and looked like the funeral urns Merina had seen in the barrows she had searched with Brother Darion. From what she remembered, they usually had offerings, like jewels or money. Merina felt uncomfortable to say the least about stealing from the dead. But, as she constantly reassured herself, she needed the money more than the dead did. Either way, she felt shady, but it was a choice between feeling shady and having a coat in Skyrim's freezing weather.

There were a few coins in the jars, but not enough. Soon enough, Merina was moving on, going down the next hallway. She stopped, however, when she saw in the next room, another bandit. She stopped and moved away from the entrance. She would have gone on the attack, but the man was moving towards a lever in the middle of the room that she guessed opened the gate at the end. If she could sneak by him...

But that wasn't necessary, nor was it possible, because as soon as the man pulled the lever, a flurry of arrows came out of the top of the wall and killed the man instantly.

'Well,' she thought nervously, 'This could be a problem.'

She looked up to see three engravings coming out of the upper wall in front of her. The one on the left was of a snake, the one on the right was what looked like a fish or maybe a whale, but the one in the middle seemed to have fallen off. She just had to guess that it was the engraving that was on the floor, the one in a pile of rubble. When she looked down at it, it also showed a picture of a snake.

When she turned to her left, she saw three turnable statues, right against the wall, just where she thought they would be. If this was like most Nord ruins, then if she turned the statues to show the right picture, it would disarm the trap and open the gate.

She decided going left to right and used all of the strength in her arms to turn them. Those statues were heavy. Eventually, she got them to show the emblems on the wall: two snakes and a whale. She hesitantly walked up to the ladder, knowing that she needed to be right, and pulled it, jumping out of the reach of any more darts that could fly at her.

As it turned out, she didn't need to. No darts came flying down and the gate opened with a loud creak that anyone in a three mile radius could have probably heard. It was good that the gate had opened. It was bad that anyone who wasn't dead would now know that she was there.

Such as the three skeevers that came running up a set of stairs in the next room. If there was anything more annoying than wolves, then it was skeevers. They were huge rats that were always hiding in the strangest of places. At least they weren't really dangerous.

The room was small, with a small stone table that had three golden urns and a book on it. She ignored the book, it was on thievery, she didn't think it would be very useful, and went for the urns. Urns, from what she remembered of Nord tombs, usually had some kind of offering, like jewels or money. While she felt like a skeevy, shady, grave robber (which she kind of was at this point, even if she didn't like it.) Even if she felt horrible, she needed money. She needed food, a coat, a place to live more than the dead did. What could they do with money? So she took the few coins that were in the urns, even though she didn't feel so great about doing it.

The stairs were covered in cobwebs, Merina swore that she was going to wash her clothes as soon as she could, and they creaked every time she took a step. The wood looked like it would break at any moment, so she took light steps.

She managed to get down the stairs with the steps (and her legs) intact, but there were a few close calls. The room she was now was much larger with another stone table, this one in the middle of the room. On the table was a scroll and a grey bottle. On closer inspection, Merina could tell that by reading the runes that this was a scroll to make a fireball. The bottle was a paralysis poison, she could tell by the color and the label.

She picked them up and put them in her bag. She continued walking, going down a small set of stairs and continuing into a hall. But by the end she was had a feeling she wasn't alone, because she was hearing a suspicious scuttling noise, where she couldn't tell. She stopped, narrowed her eyes, and put her hand on the hilt of her sword. Her feeling was reaffirmed by the fact that a man started calling out, "Is... is someone coming? Is that you Harknir? Bjorn? Soling?"

She then pulled out her sword and went into another room on the left. As soon as she got in, she knew what she was dealing with. There was a set of arches to walk under, but they were covered in spiderwebs. She would have to cut through them.

Her sword did the job in two cuts, creating a hole large enough for her to slip through. As soon as she did, she found out who had been calling. It was a Dark Elf man, who was probably wearing armor if the leather helmet on his head indicated anything, and he had been almost completely enveloped in spiderwebs.

She now knew where the scuttling sounds had come from, and when she looked around, that was when she heard some more. She turned around, only to see a giant spider standing in front of her, it venom covered pincers clicking together. This wasn't like the spiders she had encountered with Hadvar, this was at least five times bigger. Bigger than two of Merina combined.

She put her sword in front of herself defensively. She did not want to know what those pincers felt like. The spider was a lot faster than its size would have had Merina think, but she managed to jump and land on its back before it could bite her.

She would have moved to stab the thing, but she was having a hard time staying on top of the spider, there was nothing for her to grab onto, and the spider was doing its best to knock her off. For a few minutes she managed to stay on its back, but barely. Then she was thrown off, and her left leg slammed into the wall, but she managed to hold onto her sword, and fell to the floor in a heep. Her bag slammed into her as well as soon as she collided with the wall. The spider was quickly approaching, it's many legs scuttling across the stone floor. She quickly, desperately searched through her bag until she found the grey bottle she was looking for. She had just managed to coat the sword's tip with the stuff, before the spider was right in front of her. Without any time to think about what she was doing, she stabbed it in one of it's many eyes. It reared up, probably effects of the poison, and Merina stabbed its soft underbelly. She managed to pull her sword out and roll out of the way before the spider fell on top of her. She hadn't realized how loudly and hard her heart had been beating, or how quickly she was breathing, until then.

She got up, her legs aching from the fall, but she was very lucky it wasn't something more. She dusted the dirt, and, well, dust, off of herself and turned to the man encased in the web. As soon as she had done that, he began speaking, very loudly and very quickly, "You did it you killed it. Now cut me down before anything else shows up."

However, Merina was suspicious. This was probably the Arvel that the bandits had been talking about. She wasn't about to trust a bandit so readily. Besides, this Arvel probably knew that if she had come this far, no one was coming to help him. And he certainly didn't know why she needed to get through the barrow. He was probably desperate and would say anything.

"Where's the golden claw?"

On the other hand, however, Merina's curiosity had been sparked. She wasn't sure what it was, or what it was supposed to do, but if he was offering it in return for saving his life, it had to be valuable. And if this man had brought it here, then it probably had something to do with the barrow. Whatever it was, she wanted it. And once he started talking about markings, a "hall of stories," and power the Nords had hidden, her curiosity only increased. So, against her better judgement, she did what he asked.

And, just as she thought, he wasn't trustworthy at all. As soon as she'd cut him down, he ran off, yelling about how the claw and the treasure was his. Merina stood there for a moment, biting the inside of her lip as she fumed. Then she took off running.

By the time she got to him, he was dead and there were three draugr in her way. Draugr were ruthless, could take more wounds than humans could on account of be the undead, and even if you killed them, they would eventually just come back. However, they were pretty dumb and there were wounds even they couldn't take. They also had a weakness for fire. Before doing anything else, she picked up the claw and put it in her pocket.

Merina put up her sword in a classic defensive pose and looked around for something to use. That was when she saw the trap. It was a small circular bump on the floor, but by the light markings on it and the spiked gate close by, just waiting to launch, she figured out what it was.

She began running at breakneck speed. When she got to the bump, she quickly sidestepped around it and avoided the trap. The draugr did not. When Merina turned around, she saw all three draugr lying on the ground unmoving. She didn't take time to muse on how very stupid draugr were and just kept moving.

The next section of the tomb was just as full of draugr as the one before and it too had a trap. This one had three swinging blades. If she timed it correctly, then she could get through, and if the draugr followed her they wouldn't be so lucky. She ran towards the blades, and stopped just in front of them. She didn't have much time, draugr weren't as fast as the living, but they were hardly slow. When she looked behind her shoulder, they were almost within stabbing distance. At that moment, she saw that now was her chance, and she quickly darted past the blades. Just as she predicted, the draugr were cut down and she was free to go on.

Each time she went into a new part of the tomb she had to do this, over and over, sometimes killing them outright and other times using traps. At one point she took out about six draugr by burning them using the oil they were all standing on and cutting down the lantern just above it. She had barely avoided getting herself killed. At first, she had been fine, but over time she began to wear down. At first she couldn't tell, her moves were barely slower, she could only tell because she knew how she was at her best. Now, it was worse. She was sitting down, pressed up against the wall, trying to catch her breath in the stale air. Her entire body was aching after her constant fighting and running. At this point, all she wanted to do was sleep. Actually, no, that wasn't it. All she wanted to do was get out of this Talos forsaken place. But wanting and ten septims would get her a room at a fair priced inn. She was going to get, whether she was tired or not, and find a way out (And the claw, as it turned out, had unlocked a huge door. So it was useful after all.)

She pushed herself up, and brushed as much dirt off her hands as she could. Then she went on walking, hoping that this tunnel would lead her to what Farengar needed her to get. She realized this was rather self centered, as this was going to help people stand up to a dragon, but she wanted a reward.

The tunnel finally funneled out into the largest room in the barrow yet.

'This has to be the main chamber,' she suddenly realized.

She looked around, trying to find where that stone she was looking for could be. What did it even look like? She had forgotten to ask about that key detail. And he had forgotten to mention it. Her mood was getting darker and darker as she walked around the room.

When she had finished completely searching the room without finding a thing, she went to the one thing in the room that was getting her attention, a huge part of curved wall with strange symbols on it. She was no master of linguistics, but somehow she knew that this was no human or elven language. One word in particular called out to her, emanating a bright white light. She moved closer and closer, until her nose was almost touching the ancient grey stone. Somehow, she could read one of the words–– or at least, know what the symbol meant in the spoken language of... well whatever it was. It was "fus". She didn't know what it meant, but she was focusing more on the fact that she could actually make out that it meant anything at all. How had she known that?!

She didn't get much time to question that, as just then the stone lid of the coffin in the middle of the room burst open. She would never tell anyone this, but she screamed. A very high pitched, very loud, curse filled scream. The draugr that stepped out of the coffin didn't seem ruffled. He was charging at her, much faster than she suspected, and she barely had time to pull out her sword and block the heavy strike from the thing's huge, steel blade. The draugr was strong, very strong, and stronger than her. It was all she could do to keep her blade locked with his and she was moving back, by now almost pushed against the wall. She could feel sweat dripping down her forehead, even though the barrow was drafty and cold. Her eyes were narrowed and her lips were pursed. She was not going to fall.

But she did, her head hitting the stone slab as she did. Everything seemed to be in slow motion, the draugr stepping forward, lifting its sword. In that moment, she knew that if she didn't do something quick, she would die. It was something she hadn't felt in a long time. Even at the execution, it just hadn't felt real. It was like a dream and that feeling hadn't been there. The last time she had felt that, that feeling of complete terror, that horrible lack of control, was the day her father had been butchered.

The thought of her father and his death spurred her into action. Suddenly, she wasn't so tired and her limbs were free of all soreness. Just before the sword came down on her, she rolled out of the way and stood up, sword in hand. She ran at the draugr and when it blocked her, she kicked it in the shins. It fell and as it did, she stabbed it, her sword going through its skull.

She pulled her sword out and wiped it off on the thing's armor. She really needed to get a rag or something for this thing. It was getting ridiculous. After she finished that, she walked over the draugr's coffin. There really was no other place the stupid stone could be. Unless it wasn't there, a nasty voice in her head whispered. She, as always, ignored that voice. She didn't know what she was going to do if it wasn't.

And it was good that she did, because that stone that she had risked her life more than once to get. She picked it up and looked at it. On one side it had strange markings like the ones on the wall. When she turned it over, and looked at it closely, she saw that it was a map of Skyrim.

Merina carefully placed the Dragonstone in her bag, she didn't know how old the thing was, it could have been very delicate. She walked up the flight of stairs in the back of the room, and seeing no other choice, pulled the lever that was on a stand against stone cave wall. The lever was what apparently caused part of wall to rise, giving her just enough space to walk through, which she did.

It was an exit! Merina thanked all the Nine at least five times because at last–– at long last–– she was out of that horrible place! Or, at least she would be, when it wasn't night and there wasn't a huge snowstorm. At that moment, all of Merina's exhaustion returned in full force. She propped her head against one of the cave walls and immediately fell asleep.

-

A/N: sorry about the long wait, no excuses except writers block and then technology problems. Thanks again to my beta. Once again, I do not own Skyrim and any dialogue you recognize is not my own.

A/N by beta: Sorry for late update. Hope y'all enjoyed it. Update schedule should be more regular from now on.

[a]


	5. Chapter 5

_"The first certain record, and the first one to be an actual primary source, comes from the Greybeards. It took me many years to gain access to the knowledge, and it was well worth the effort. Most biographers do not go to the Greybeards for information, they are notoriously isolationist and do not speak to anyone but a Dragonborn. I had to get into contact with Emperor Uriel X and have him get the Greybeards' information. As I said, the information was very much worth the effort, as it showed Merina was, or at least where she was going, for at least half of the blank spots in her life."_

_~ Life of the Empress Kintrya III, volume one, by Chaes Belarnion_

By the time she got back to Whiterun, after running away from giants, having to completely turn around, getting lost at least three times, and going back to Riverwood to return the golden claw (which earned her a nice amount of gold) it was four days after she had left, and, thankfully, the dragon situation didn't seem to have changed. When she got back to Dragonsreach, Farengar was speaking to a woman in the room. Her face was shrouded by a hood and she was wearing layers upon layers of leather armor. The woman only a little taller than Merina, which was a surprise. Most people even of average height towered above her. It was a nice surprise that someone was actually close to her in height who wasn't a child. Which meant that the woman was probably a Breton. Probably.

"You see, the terminology is clearly First Era or even earlier. I'm convinced this is a copy of a much older text. Perhaps dating to just after the Dragon War. If so, I could it to cross reference it with other later texts."

"Good. I'm glad you're making progress. My employers are anxious to have some tangible answers."

Merina could have sworn she knew that voice, she just couldn't put a face to it. The voice was rather low, with a harsher edge to it, rather like her own. Her mind knew it from _somewhere_, she could without a doubt recognize it. She just couldn't remember where. What was more worrisome was what the woman was talking about. "Employers"? Who was this woman working for? The Thalmor? The Empire? The... what were they called, Stormcloaks? Was Farengar in league with them?

Farengar began speaking again, "Oh, have no fear, the Jarl himself has finally taken an interest, so I'm now able to devote most of my time to this research."

"Time is running, Farengar, don't forget. This isn't some theoretical question. The dragons have come back."

"Yes, yes. Don't worry. Although the chance to see a living dragon up close would be tremendously valuable..."

Merina decided now was the time to announce her presence, "I assure you, it really isn't worth the effort."

Farengar and the woman seemed to have o la justicia motives her. Farengar said, with something that was a cross between incredulity and bemusement, " Hmm? Ah, yes, the Jarl's protege! Back from Bleak Falls Barrow? You didn't die it seems."

"So it seems. Listen, I got your dragon stone." Merina pulled it out and held it out towards him expectantly.

Farengar wasted no time in grabbing it, looking it over with an excited gleam in his eye. He then realized that both women were still looking at him, waiting for something. He sighed and put the tablet back on his desk.

"It seems you are a cut above the usual brutes the Jarl usually sends my way."

"So you've got the stone. What do you need it for? And who's she?" At that, Merina nodded her head in the woman's direction.

"My... associate here will be pleased to see your handiwork. She discovered its location, by means she has so far declined to share with me."

Merina wanted to tell him, perhaps with some sharpness, that he hadn't answered her question. But the woman spoke before she could. Looking at Merina she said, with some surprise, "You went into Bleak Falls Barrow and got that?" Then she begrudgingly added, "Nice work." The woman then began to speaking to Farengar again, "Just send me a copy when you've deciphered it."

Merina tried to turn and speak to her, to ask her if they'd ever met, and perhaps get a better answer as to who this woman was, but the woman began to walk away and brushed her off. Merina didn't have much time be offended, or question why the woman was secretive, (or try and figure out _why_ that woman's voice was so familiar, it was driving her insane from the moment she half recognized it), because just then, Irileth ran into the room.

"Farengar, you need to come at once. A dragon's been sighted near by."

Apparently Merina had spoken too soon about the dragon situation. Then Irileth looked at Merina, "You should come too."

Merina wasn't so sure. She was hardly humble about her skills, but she wasn't so sure how helpful they would be against a dragon. She had no idea what would actually kill a dragon. At Helgen, nothing had seemed to even injure the beast. The only way she, Hadvar, and anyone else managed to escape was by running away as fast as they could. If this was what dragons were like, Merina wasn't sure why they had gone away in the first place. But there was no time for that kind of thought. If people thought she could help stop a dragon, then she would do what she could.

Whether or not it would actually make a difference.

The three of them began running, the mysterious woman gone from both the room and Merina's thoughts. They raced up the stairs, to see the Jarl looking even more worried than he had been when she'd given him the news about the dragon. She was about to ask him what was going on, and from the look on Farengar's face, so was he, when a guard ran up to the Jarl, panting for breath, his sword still tightly clutched in his fist, the veins bulging.

The Jarl was the first to speak. "So, Irileth tells me you came from the Western Watchtower?"

"Yes, my lord."

Irileth tried to encourage the man, "Tell him what you told me. About the dragon."

The man took a breath, as if he was trying to believe what he was saying. If Merina didn't know what seeing a dragon was like, and that feeling of no this isn't happening, this can't be happening, she would have thought he was lying. "We saw it coming from the south. It was fast... faster than anything I've ever seen."

Jarl Balgruuf began asking him urgently, "What did it do? Is it attacking the watchtower?"

"No, my lord. It was just circling over head when I left. I never ran so fast in my life... I thought it would come after me for sure."

"Good work, son. We'll take it from here. Head down to the barracks for some food and rest. You've earned it."

Irileth began walking toward the Jarl.

"Irileth, you'd better gather some guardsmen and get down there."

"I've already ordered my men to muster near the main gate."

"Good. Don't fail me."

The Jarl then walked up to Merina. "There's no time to stand on ceremony, my friend. I need your help again. I want you to go with Irileth and help her fight this Dragon. You survived Helgen, so you have more experience with dragons then anyone else here. But I haven't forgotten the service you did for me in retrieving the Dragonstone for Farengar. Please, accept this gift from my personal armory."

It was a beautiful sword, made of steel, but unlike anything she had ever seen. This had to be the legendary Skyforge steel she had heard about. She tried to thank him, but he simply waved it away.

Farengar began speaking again. "I should come along. I would very much like to see this dragon."

But Jarl Balgruuf rejected him, "No. I can't afford to risk both of you. I need you here working on ways to defend the city against these dragons."

Farengar looked unhappy about it, but nodded.

"One last thing, Irileth. This isn't a death or glory mission. I need to know what we're dealing with."

"Don't worry, my lord. I'm the very soul of caution."

They left after that, in nearly a run, in complete silence. They pushed through town, slowing down and trying to appear as if was wrong. When they reached the gate, Irileth suddenly stopped and Merina almost ran into her.

There were about ten guards amassed in front of what Merina supposed were the barracks. They looked uncertain and wary, with good reason. They were all going on what was pretty much a suicide mission. The only one with any experience with dragons was Merina and she wouldn't call her's solid information. She, in all honesty, felt unless. She wished that she had information of _some _use. She wished it was more than "the only thing you can do is run away."

Irileth sensed the mood as well, and immediately began speaking, saying a rousing speech. As she spoke, everyone seemed a little more confident. They might even be able to kill this thing! Even Merina was starting to feel a bit hopeful. It was possible! They could do this! Probably.

They walked out of town, with what was almost a spring in there step. When they got to the Western Watchtower, however, that optimism faded.

The tower looked more than a little damaged. Parts of it had been completely destroyed and there were flames everywhere. There was so much smoke and another smell that Merina didn't want to think about. The dragon was nowhere in sight, but Merina involuntarily started remembering Helgen. She tried to squash those those thoughts as quickly as she could. Thinking about Helgen wouldn't do any good.

Irileth started talking. "I know it looks bad, but we've got to figure out what happened. And if that dragon is still skulking around somewhere." She pulled out her sword and everyone else, including Merina, did the same.

"Spread out, and look for survivors," was the last thing she said before she started running towards the main tower.

Merina did the same, it was the only still standing structure. If anyone had survived, they would be in there. Just as she was going up a part of broken structure that now doubled as a ramp, a guard ran out of the tower, blocking their path.

"No! Get back! It's still around here somewhere. Hroki and Tor just got grabbed by it."

Merina didn't move and instead surprised herself by speaking, in what was a surprisingly calm voice. "Where is the dragon now? Which way did it go?"

But before the guard could say anymore, there was a deafening roar. Merina knew that roar, her heart began to race and she unconsciously began to shake. She instantly pulled out her bow.

The guard yelled in a voice of absolute terror, "Kynareth save us, here he comes again!"

Irileth took control of the situation, shouting, "Everyone take cover and make everywhere arrow count!"

She continued running towards the tower and rushed through, bounding up its stairs until she got to the very top of the tower. It wasn't much for defense, but at least she would be able to see where the overgrown lizard was coming from.

Just turning to her right allowed her to find out. It was coming from the mountains. She immediately pulled out an arrow and readied it. She pulled back the bowstring as far as she could, taking a deep breath in as she did. Then, as soon she had, she released both the arrow and her breath.

The arrow flew straight, piercing the beast in the middle of its neck, but it didn't even slow the beast down. It reared up and immediately started flying right towards her, moving faster than she thought possible. She practically threw herself back down the stairs, barely missing the dragon's fiery breath.

Well, she couldn't go back there. That was when she noticed the window.

She could see the dragon just about to spew fire in her face. There was no time to run and no where to go. In that split second, she released the arrow and as soon as she did jumped away from the window, just to the right, so close, she could feel the the heat of the flames on her cheek.

The dragon flew away so fast, she couldn't tell if her arrow had hit the damn thing or not. She didn't have time to think about it, as the dragon had landed on the top of the tower, its massive size causing most of the ceiling to come down. Not wanting to get crushed by falling rubble, Merina had no other option than to run out of there as quickly as she could.

It was windier than it had been before. She had no idea why, but that was the first thing she noticed. Most of the guards were dead, the rest were hiding behind rubble. Almost all of the ground was on fire. It didn't feel real.

The monster flew off of the tower, its roar so loud, Merina wanted to cover her ears. She pushed herself against the tower wall, praying to all of the Divines that it didn't see her. She was breathing in quick, short breaths, her heart racing, and her legs felt like they were going to collapse.

The dragon didn't focus on her, instead going for the last of the guards, who were hiding behind the largest piece of rubble. But instead of staying in the air, the dragon went to the ground. Merina couldn't see what it was doing, but from the lack of fire, the way one of guards was screaming, and the way that the dragon was swinging its head from side to side, it wasn't hard to make a guess. Merina felt bile come into her throat and it was all she could do not to heave.

Merina didn't even realize that she was running until she was until she was halfway to the dragon. She hadn't realized she'd dropped her bow and pulled out her sword until she was almost close enough to stab the dragon.

That was when the dragon started to fly up, its huge wings darkening the sky over Merina. But she didn't stop running and in mid run, instead, she jumped, grabbing on to the end of the dragon's tail with her left hand, holding on for dear life. She moved the sword from where it was clenched in her right hand to her mouth, now holding on to the blade with her teeth, and began to climb.

The dragon didn't notice her until she was on the middle of its spine, its scales jabbing into her. That was when it began to try to shake her off, to no avail. Even though she was getting swung from side to side, each time her legs hit the thing's scales caused another cut, the scythe like scales digging into her arms, her hair whipping in her face, making it difficult to see, she kept moving forward, clutching onto the dragon's jagged scales, putting one hand in front of the other.

Getting to the dragon's head was a saving grace. She grabbed onto one of its horns and used it to stand herself up. The dragon wasn't to far off the ground, which was good, because she hadn't exactly thought this through when she jumped on it. Seeing no alternative now, she put her sword back into her right hand, the one that wasn't gripping onto the dragon's horn for dear life. Then taking a deep breath, she let go of the horn and grasped the sword with both hands.

The dragon seemed to have realized what she was attempting and in a voice that sounded afraid, it yelled, "Dovahkiin?! Niid!"

Feeling like she was standing on a tightrope, she yelled out an unintelligible battle cry and put all her weight into thrusting her new steel sword into the dragon's skull.

She breathed a sigh of relief and promptly proceeded to panic, as the dragon's body was quickly hurtling towards the ground. She didn't even have time to comfort herself with the knowledge that the dragon wasn't too high off the ground, (even though it was still a good sized drop) about the same height of now destroyed watchtower's window.

When the dragon slammed into the ground, she was thrown off about ten feet in the air and hit the ground pretty close to the dragon. She layed there for a good minute or so, needing a moment to get over the shock of the landing and a second to steady herself.

When she was able to stand herself up, she stared at the dragon's huge corpse in disbelief. She was relieved that the thing was finally dead, but it felt more like a dream than reality. The feeling of it being a dream only grew stronger when the dragon's body began to burn away.

At first, it was just a few, small scales that floated off the body. More and more floated off, until they, both scales in the air and those still on the corpse, began to burn in a golden light. That was when streams of white light started to fly off the dragon's body, causing Merina to stumble back. Whatever those streams of light were, they were coming right at her. She didn't  
>like the idea of that.<p>

More and more light came off of the dragon, until Merina couldn't even see the corpse anymore. Suddenly, she was enveloped in it, she couldn't see anything but that golden light. She saw that wall again, the one with the strange markings. The word that she had seen before, in the barrow, the one that had seemed to glow, glowed once more. She saw it a thousand times, over and over. Before, somehow she had been able to read it, but now she understood it. Force. Forcing your own will into the physical world. That dragon, –– Mirmulnir, somehow she knew that was its name— somehow, she knew the dragon had something to do with it.

As soon as that revelation had come to her, the light began to fade. For a second, she had to steady herself, she felt like she was about to faint. She wasn't sure if that was from the strange light or the fact that her body had finally realized that it was out of danger and hadn't gotten a good night's sleep in weeks. Perhaps both.

There was nothing left of the dragon except a large skeleton and a few large scales that somehow hadn't burned away like the others. She remembered reading something about how dragon bones and scales were used by the best blacksmiths for some of the royal Imperial armor. Merina wondered how much she would get for selling some of those bones.

She felt like she was getting stared at, so she turned around and saw the guards, who were standing behind her, gaping at her. Merina hadn't realized that they were behind her until that moment. One of them came up to her, complete shock evident from his expression.

"I can't believe it. You're... you're Dragonborn!"

Merina knew that, but she also knew that just announcing it would just be suspicious. And besides, what did being Dragonborn have to do with whatever just happened? So she said, "Dragonborn? What do you mean?"

"In the very oldest tales, back from when there were still dragons in Skyrim, the Dragonborn would slay dragons and steal their power. That's what you did, isn't it?"

Merina had never read of those stories, but dragons never really had been of interest to her. The information seemed useless at the time. She was regretting that now.

Another guard started talking. "That's right. My grandfather used to tell stories about the Dragonborn. Those born with the dragonblood, like old Tiber Septim himself."

All of the guards were talking now, "I never heard of Tiber Septim killing any dragons."

"There weren't any dragons then, idiot. They're just coming back now for the first time in... forever."

"What do you say, Irileth? You're being awfully quiet."

"Come on, Irileth, tell us, do you believe in this Dragonborn business?"

Irileth scoffed. "Some of you would be better off keeping quiet than flapping your gums on matters you don't know anything about. Here's a dead dragon, and that's something I definitely understand. Now we know we can kill them. But I don't need some mythical Dragonborn. Someone who can put down a dragon is more than enough for me."

"You wouldn't understand, housecarl. You ain't a Nord."

Irileth seemed a bit offeneded by that, and in Merina's opinion, rightly so, "I've been all across Tamriel. I've seen plenty of things just as outlandish as this. I'd advise you all to trust in the strength of your sword arm over tales and legends."

At that Irileth turned away from the guards and walked up to Merina who was standing in complete silence, just staring at the dragon's carcass.

"I'm taking control here for the moment. You head back to Whiterun and let the Jarl what happened."

Merina nodded, still a bit in shock. A _dragon_. She had just _killed_ a _dragon_.

The walk back to Whiterun was a slow one. She could barely comprehend what had just happened. _She _had just killed a dragon. Her hand was clenched around her bow, which she had picked up before leaving, twisting around it. Merina's thoughts were going to dark places. That prophecy. The world eater wakes. And the wheel turns upon the last Dragonborn. What did it mean? What was she supposed to do?

_The last Dragonborn._

Her train of thought was broken just after she had gone through the city' states, because suddenly the ground started shaking, as if there was a massive earthquake. Merina stumbled and almost fell to the ground.

"Dovahkiin!"

Everyone on the streets looked up when they heard that loud call. No one was sure where it came from, but everyone seemed rattled. Once Merina recovered her bearings, she continued walking to the Dragonsreach, but a little faster.

The Jarl was speaking with a man when she entered.

"You heard the summons. What else could it mean? The Greybeards..."

The Jarl seemed to be lost in thought after that, but he quickly broke out of it and turned to Merina, who was now standing in front of the steps before the throne. "So what happened at the watchtower? Was the dragon there?"

"It was. We managed to kill it, but... you're going to need a new watchtower."

Jarl Balgruuf nodded, "I knew I could count on Irileth. But there must be more to it than that."

Merina slightly grimaced. This was the part she had wanted to leave out. She pushed it out as fast as she could, her words almost garbled, "It turns out I'm Dragonborn."

"Dragonborn? What do you about the Dragonborn?"

Merina shrugged, "What everyone knows. But, when the dragon died, I absorbed some kind of power from it."

Jarl Balgruuf didn't seem too shocked, as if he had been expecting _someone_ to say this. "So it's true. The Greybeards really were summoning you." Then he turned to the other man, "You heard the summons. What else could it mean?

Merina had to ask, she really had no idea who they were talking about, "Who are the Greybeards?"

Jarl Balgruuf was the one to answer her, "Masters of the Way of the Voice. They live in seclusion high on the slopes of the Throat of the World. The Greybeards..." The Jarl was once again lost in thought.

The other man began speaking at that point, "Didn't you hear the thundering sound as you returned to Whiterun? That was the voice of the Greybeards, summoning you to High Hrothgar! This hasn't happened in ... centuries, at least. Not since Tiber Septim himself was summoned when he was still Talos of Atmora!"

Proventus seemed skeptical and was pretty derisive when he said, "Hrongar, calm yourself. What does any of this Nord nonsense have to do with our friend here? Capable as she may be, I don't see any signs of her being this, what, 'Dragonborn.'"

'Well isn't that just lovely for my pride,' Merina thought.

Hrongar went red in the face, "Nord nonsense?! Why you puffed-up ignorant... these are our sacred traditions that go back to the founding of the First Empire!"

The Jarl intervened, "Hrongar. Don't be so hard on Avenicci."

"I meant no disrespect, of course. It's just that... what do these Greybeards want with her?"

The Jarl was the final authority on the argument, "That's the Greybeards' business, not ours." Then he turned to Merina, "Whatever happened when you killed that dragon, it revealed something in you, and the Greybeards heard it. If they think you're Dragonborn, who are we to argue? You'd better get up to High Hrothgar immediately. There's no refusing the summons of the Greybeards. It's a tremendous honor." Suddenly, Jarl Balgruuf seemed wistful, "I envy you, you know. To climb the seven thousand steps... High Hrothgar is a very peaceful place. Very... disconnected from the troubles of this world." His voice then grew bitter, "I wonder if the Greybeards even know what's going on here. They haven't seemed to care before." He cleared his throat, "No matter. Go to High Hrothgar. Learn what the Greybeards can teach you."

Merina was about to turn around and leave, to go and do what he asked, but the Jarl said one more thing.

"You've done a great service for me and my city, Dragonborn."

"Listen, if you're offering me a reward, I'd be happy with just a coat."

Jarl Balgruuf laughed. "You'll get that and more. By my right as Jarl, I name you Thane of Whiterun. It's the greatest honor that's within my power to grant. I assign you Lydia as a personal Housecarl, and the house Breezehome. I'll also notify my guards of your new title. Wouldn't want them to think you're part of the common rabble, now would we? We are honored to have you as Thane of our city, Dragonborn."

Merina bowed slightly and thanked him. The Jarl pointed to a woman near the entrance. That had to be her... well whatever a housecarl was.

When Merina walked over to the woman, the first thing she noticed about Lydia was that she was tall. Well, everyone here was tall, but it was still always a shock when she met people. This woman was especially tall, she towered above Merina and was probably more than a foot taller than her. She had a long, rather stern looking face that was framed by straight thick, dark brown almost black hair. Her eyes were grey, the same color as the steel armor she wore.

"I thought you'd be taller." Then Lydia blushed, as if she hadn't meant to say that out loud.

Merina laughed.

"So you're my..."

"Housecarl. As you are my thane, I am sworn to your service. I'll guard you and all you own with my life."

"So you're my bodyguard."

Lydia didn't even move a muscle, but she didn't look pleased with that title.

Merina pushed a bit of her hair behind her ear and moved her weight from one foot to the other. "So, um, I need to go to see the Greybeards. So, I suppose that we're off to High Hrothgar?"

"As you command, my Thane."

"You know what? Call me Merina."

Merina began walking towards the great doors, and Lydia flanked her, like a dark (much taller) shadow. And they were off. Well, as soon as Merina got her coat.

Merina hadn't realized how much she had realized she had loved riding horses until she had to trek across Skyrim, which was hardly flat country, on foot. The company wasn't much better. Things were, to put it mildly, awkward. Really awkward.

On its own, traveling with practically a stranger was going to lead to uncomfortable situations on its own. Most of the time, they were walking in awkward silence. Merina could tell that she wasn't who Lydia had expected to serve. For one, she wasn't a Nord. That was a big one. She wasn't the tall, two sword wielding, honor before reason hero like the one from legend. She was a pale shadow of the most famous of dragonborns and she knew it. She didn't really live up to the hype. Even though she was born here, she had lived just a bit longer in Cyrodiil. And both her parents were from there. Even though she still loved the place, with its beauty and wide open spaces, she knew very little of the culture and the people. In all honesty, the parts she knew about she didn't really understand. Why were they so gung-ho about honor before, well, everything? She didn't always think things out, but it wasn't because of honor. Why was Talos so important that people would go to war over him (she was descended from the man and it wasn't _that_ important to her)? Why was milk drinker an insult? She just couldn't understand it.

So the culture clash was a big problem on the trying to get along front. There was also the added problem of finding a topic that they could talk about. The normal ones would be things like who are you and why did you decide to become a bodyguard. But that would mean Merina answering the follow up of why had she come to Skyrim. And even if Lydia was sworn to serve her, she thought that it was definitely to soon to even think about mentioning that. Each person she told that to was in danger. And, as a small weasel like voice in her head whispered, was a danger to her.

But lying came easily to Merina these days, even if she didn't like it and thought that it wasn't a good way to befriend someone. But she could simply chose not to reveal everything. That would be okay, wouldn't it? Well, perhaps close to okay.

So, as they were walking near a river and would soon be going over a bridge, she tried to start a conversation.

"So why did you decide to become a bodyguard?"

Lydia frowned and looked skeptical, "You mean a housecarl? It is a great honor. Any true warrior would be honored to be one." She then quickly added, "My thane."

Merina smiled, with amusement in her voice, "Really, it's okay if you call me by my name."

Lydia returned the grin with the smallest upturning of her lips that could just barely be called a smile. She stared off towards the river on their right. "My mother was one of the Companions. So was my father. I was raised on those tales of bravery and honor. They trained me in everything they knew. Swords, tracking, archery. I wanted to be brave and honorable and slay monsters, just like they did."

"I guess you got your wish."

"I suppose I did. Just not the monsters I was expecting."

"Are your parents still Companions?"

"No, they left a few years before I was born. There was some dispute between them and few others and the Circle –– the greatest of the Companions. It was some religious dispute, they didn't like to talk about it."

They walked in silence for a moment or two. Then Lydia turned her head towards Merina, a questioning look on her face. "So, what about you? Why did you come to Skyrim?"

"Is it that hard to believe that I'm a local?"

Lydia raised an eyebrow.

"That obvious, huh? Well, it's a long story."

Lydia cocked her head towards the mountain in the far distance. "We have time."

Merina smirked. "So we do. I lived in Kvatch, with my uncle, the priest. Things were great. I got into some trouble with the Thalmor. I left."

"And went to the place the Thalmor crack down on the most?"

"Let's just say I was a bit misinformed about the political situation in Skyrim."

They fell into silence after that, just walking along the well worn path. But the silence wasn't as awkward as it had been.

Perhaps she traveled faster with Lydia, but even though they had to go around a mountain, they made good time in getting to Ivarstead, it only took them two days. The roads were pretty empty, just a couple of wolves and bandits, nothing Lydia or Merina couldn't handle. Merina didn't say anything, but she was thanking the Divines that there wasn't another dragon. Sure, she had defeated one, but she had an entire contingent of guards helping her. She didn't doubt Lydia's skill or anything like that, but it was just the two of them against a dragon. She didn't like the odds of that. But she didn't say anything. Her pride wouldn't let her. Brother Darion always told her that pride came before the fall, and for her it was going to be a very long fall. She told him that she was going to make sure that she never fell. He always scoffed when she said that.

But she had left something out whenever she told him that. She might fall. But no one would ever have to know it.

Ivarstead was even smaller than Riverwood, which Merina hadn't thought possible. When she had traveled through Skyrim, they didn't go through the small towns, just the large cities. Or at least, she didn't. Sometimes, Brother Darion said it was too dangerous, and left her in an inn, without saying where he was going or what he was doing. All he told her was that if he died, she had to go to Windhelm and tell the Jarl who she was and show him the amulet. She told him that no one was going to keep a girl safe on a _possible_ lineage to an outlawed god and an amulet that could be a fake. When she had said that, he told her, in almost a whisper, that she doubted the power of faith. He was right, she supposed. Brother Darion _had_ been talking about a man who raised in rebellion, risking both his own life and that of his supporters, because of Talos. That was probably an oversimplification of the entire thing. She had, after all, been getting her information from the Empire. The same empire that called the rebellion "mild discontent". She no longer entirely trusted their information.

The next thing she noticed about Ivarstead was how quiet it was. The streets were completely empty. She could practically have heard a pin drop. The only noise seemed to come from the raging river, the slight wind, and the chickens, and even they were silent, apart from the odd cluck or two. In fact, she didn't hear any noises from _any _animals. Lydia seemed to notice something too, she had narrowed her eyes and Merina could see her ready to pull out her sword at a moments notice. Merina put her hand up in a cautionary gesture. They didn't want to terrorize the locals by barging in someone's house, kicking down the door, swords in hand.

Merina pointed to the inn. If anyone would be out of their house, it would be for a drink. Plus, unless the innkeeper was filthy rich, the inn would double as their home. Merina walked forward, slowly. Whatever was keeping these people in their homes couldn't be good.

Whatever it was, Merina didn't want to provoke it.

She walked up as softly as she could, what with the heavy armor, which was surprisingly much quieter than she thought it would be. Lydia had less success. Merina pulled at the doorknob. Surprisingly, it was unlocked. That would have been good, they wouldn't have had to go to drastic measures to find out what was going on, but really it just made the pit in her stomach sink even lower. Whatever was terrifying these people, both farmers and guards, locks weren't going to stop it. She turned to Lydia, who seemed no more pleased than Merina about this. But she nodded and Merina opened the door slowly. She walked in, her hand resting on the hilt of her blade. If whatever the monster was, was in here, she wanted to be ready.

At first, the inn looked empty. Abandoned mugs rested on abandoned tables, the chairs haphazardly pushed around them. It was dark, all the candles had been snuffed out. At first glance, no one was there. So Merina was going to do something that was really stupid. If the... whatever it was, was in here, this would let it know that they were there. Something that got even heavily armed guards to run and hide. Merina didn't want whatever it was jumping out at them from dark corners.

But the much less rational side of her was in control at the moment. Was anyone injured? Did they need medical attention? Merina was no professional, nor was she a priestess of Kynareth, whose healing powers were that of legend. But she did know the basics. And what was terrifying the town? If she knew what it was, perhaps she could stop it. Or at least help.

So, summoning every ounce of courage, recklessness, and bone headed idiocy she had in her body, she called out, "Hello, is anyone there? I'm not here to hurt you, my name is Merina, and I want to help." She then sighed and said with more confidence than she actually had, " And I'm the Dragonborn."

Maybe if she said it enough, it would actually have some meaning.

She turned around and was about to leave, ready to check one of the houses or the guards' barracks, when she heard tentative footsteps. She turned around to see an almost completely bald man. He looked frightened, but a bit hopeful.

"You— you're Dragonborn?" He said in a hoarse voice.

She nodded and tried to smile a little.

"I thought you'd be taller."

She laughed a little. "So did I."

Then she grew more serious and in a darker tone, she asked, "What happened? Is anyone hurt?"

The man shook his head, then looked nervously out the slightly open door. "It— it came yesterday."

"What did?"

He didn't seem to have heard her, he just continued on, his voice getting faster and more high pitched as he went, "We heard it before we saw anything. At first we thought it was the ghost— the one from the barrow— but then we saw it."

Merina had a feeling that she knew what it was. So she took a deep breath to steel her nerves. She didn't want it to be what she thought it was. She wanted it to be something incredibly silly. But she had to ask. She took another deep breath and asked, again, much more confidently than she felt, "Was it a dragon?"

The man nodded. Merina put her hand on his shoulder and looked him in the eye. "Listen. Staying in your homes is a death trap. If the dragon comes back, it will come back and burn them with you in it. You need to get everyone out and go out into the open. Go into the woods, find a way underground, find a stone building— like the barrow just outside of town— stay by the water, run to Riften, just don't start inside _wooden buildings_, be ready to run, and most importantly _arm yourselves_."

The man didn't look very happy, but he nodded.

"Okay, which way did the dragon go?"

Lydia stared at her, she was either questioning her sanity (Merina certainly was) or she was actually pleased. From the small inclination of lips, Merina guessed it was the latter.

"It went to the mountains."

Well, at least it was somewhere convenient.

Apparently, the only way up the mountain was the seven thousand steps. The walk was quiet, except for their resonating footsteps clacking on the old stone. Merina had her bow out and Lydia was holding her shield in one hand and the other was on the hilt of her sword. For most of the way, nothing was there. And Merina could see why. The farther they went up, the colder and windier it got. Merina felt like her fingers were going to fall off. But there was something big enough, tough enough, and dumb enough to stay on the mountain.

A frost troll.

Wonderful. The only way to the isolationist monks living at the top of a mountain was one path that was now blocked by a Frost Troll. An angry, violent, probably rabid, Frost Troll. This couldn't get any worse.

Merina had to stop thinking things like that (they really did only tempt fate), because just then she heard a roar. A load, terrifying roar. No. Not this. Not now.

Merina turned to Lydia. For a second, the Nord woman's face was fearful. But her face quickly hardened and she pulled out her sword and put her shield in front of her. Then Lydia charged the troll.

Merina didn't have time to watch that battle because she had to take on the dragon. She pulled out her bow and shot at the beast a few times, trying to lure it in.

The trick worked and the dragon landed. It was right in front of her and just as it opened its mouth to send a plume of fire at Merina, she jumped out of the way to the dragon's side. She plunged her sword into its abdomen, but that only seemed to annoy the dragon. It started to fly, her sword still stuck in it, bringing Merina along with it. She tried to climb up it, but with her weak grasp on the sword, which seemed to be sliding out of the dragon as she held onto it, she was quickly thrown off before the dragon got too high up.

She fell in a heap on the snow, which was lucky, because she was about an inch from falling on a pile of rocks. Nothing seemed to be broken, but in that moment, her body was in too much shock for her to move. She saw the dragon open its mouth to breath fire and put her arms in front of her face in a vain attempt to protect herself, bracing herself for the fire and a painful death. But it didn't come. Instead, Lydia was standing in front of her, her shield blocking the flames.

Merina jumped back up on her feet. With Lydia shielding her from the dragon's maw, which, for the moment, had stopped billowing fire, she ran back to her sword, which was still stuck in the dragon's side, and pulled it out. When she saw that it was still focused on Lydia, she jumped on top of its head and pushed her sword through its skull. She realized she was doing the same thing as last time, but hey, she knew it worked. Why fix what wasn't broken?

Just like last time, that golden light enveloped her. Just like last time, the dragon's body burned away until there was nothing left but bone (which this time she managed to hack off. She'd heard that dragon bone was used in the best of armor. She could probably sell it for quite a bit of gold. That brought a smile to her face. That smile faded when she actually had to find a way to stuff said bones into the bag.)

"It seems you truly are the Dragonborn." One of Lydia's eyebrows was raised and her voice was close to its usual almost monotone, it was a little more high pitched.

"So it seems." She didn't mean for it to be almost a whisper, but that was how it came out. She had known that she was Dragonborn as far back as she could remember. She hadn't known what it meant. She had known that it had something to do with her family and the amulet of kings, but that was it. She certainly hadn't thought it had anything to do with killing dragons. Then again, her mother did tell her about dragons. She still didn't know how her mother knew any of that, but there had to have been a reason. Unfortunately, her mother didn't seem to have known much and besides, Merina could only remember one of the stories. It was something about a dragon who had done the most evil of things. But when the rest of the dragons were killed, he escaped through trickery and manipulation. That wasn't the most useful of information.

It hurt to think of her mother. Like an itch she could never scratch, a wound that could never heal. Merina hadn't seen or heard from her in ten years. And ten years was a long time. In some ways, even though it hurt like an arrow to the knee, thinking of her father was easier. At least she knew what happened to him. Was her mother still even alive? Sometimes, when she was younger, she would lie awake for hours dreaming of the day that her mother would come back. It would be in the middle of the day and her mother would burst through the temple's great doors and tell her that it was time to go home. To be a family again and that they wouldn't have to hide. And even if she would miss Kvatch and all the people, it would be worth it to be with her mother again. But that was a long time ago and she had soon learned that those were foolish dreams.

Thinking of her mother brought another emotion with it. One she didn't like to think about. One she wouldn't even name. Naming would make it real. Making real would a make a crack, if ever so faint, in the pedestal she had sat her old life upon. A pedestal that she did not did not dare touch. For one crack would bring it crashing down. But the emotion was still there, slithering around like a snake, tainting everything in its path. It whispered in her mind, every time she thought about her mother.

'She was very quick to get rid of you,' the snake would whisper.

Merina would stop that voice, refuse to listen to it, deny it all she wanted. The snake would merely coil back, hiding the darkness and the shadows. No matter she tried, no matter she fought, no matter how much she raised the pedestal, the snake remained.

'She was very quick to get rid of you.'

Merina ignored it, per usual, pushing it back into the part of her mind of her mind where she never went. The part she didn't like. The part she wanted to sever ties with, but never seemed to be able to. Merina pushed back to the shadows. But, the snake remained.

The monastery was now in sight and it wasn't very long before they had reached the stone steps and the imposing grey doors and quickly dashed inside.

The monastery was a welcome respite from the harsh snowy weather and frosty winds, one Merina was immensely grateful for. Lydia didn't seem very affected by the weather outside, her expression was still that of utter seriousness, her posture completely straight, her shoulders tight, but Merina noticed a change in even her as soon as they walked through the monastery's huge doors. So that mountain was cold even by Nord standards. Or, at least, southern Nords. She'd heard that it was warmer in the south. If that was what was considered warm in Skyrim, Merina didn't want to know cold. She didn't know how anyone could _live_ in this weather. She didn't know how she had lived in Skyrim for ten years, in the mountains no less. She must have said that out loud, because Lydia said, in what was clearly amusement, "You get used to it."

That was the first time Merina had seen Lydia smile. Really smile. She smiled in a way Merina didn't. In fact, she had dimples. It was kind of strange to see those on such a serious looking face.

For a few minutes, they simply stood there, catching their breaths and staying close in an attempt to get warm as quickly as possible. Their breath was still coming out in little puffs of steam, they were just starting to realize how drafty the monastery was, when they heard someone come down a set of stone steps in the middle of the large room.

It was an old man in grey robes with a hood. His eyes were also grey, as was his beard, but his face did not have as many wrinkles as his grey hair would imply. For a moment, they all just stood there in silence. Merina vaguely noted that more men, dressed the same way as the first, were filing out out of the hallways on two sides of the room. The first man spoke first. "You stand in High Hrothgar, on the slopes of Kynareth's sacred mountain. We are the Greybeards, followers of the Way of the Voice, Here we commune with the voice of the sky, and strive to achieve balance between our inner and outer selves. Who are you and why are you here?"

Merina cleared her throat. "I'm Dragonborn. And I want to find out what that means." She looked down, "If you'll teach me."

Author's note: Thanks to everyone who read. Once again, I don't own Skyrim and any dialogue you recognize is from the game. My beta was unfortunately unable to edit this chapter. I went over it, but it's probably not at the usual quality. I apologize for any wonky grammar.


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